


Her Beacon and Her Shield

by Bethany (beffany)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Communication, Diary/Journal, F/M, Letters, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-07-04 05:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15834609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beffany/pseuds/Bethany
Summary: The story of Zara Trevelyan and Cullen Rutherford's eventual romance. Follows the events of DA:I with minor canon divergence at times. A slow, sometimes strange romance of two adults trying to work past their previous lives to build a new one together.Told from multiple points of view through diary entries and correspondence. Will update tags as I go.





	1. Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.  
> As the moth sees light and goes toward flame,  
> She should see fire and go towards Light.  
> The Veil holds no uncertainty for her,  
> And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker  
> Shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 26/01 - I've been editing the whole story for a while, and have changed the first six chapters to better fit my vision. I hope you aren't all too angry with me.

_[An extract from Zara Trevelyan’s journal]_

“ _Incident number one_.” He reads, kicking me behind the knee, and I collapse to the floor. “ _Trevelyan threatens a templar, and on apprehension, kicks the woman in the stomach_.”

My connection to the Fade is cut off. I can’t heal myself. He wants me to suffer.

“ _Incident number two. Trevelyan attempts to steal a dagger off a templar, threatens to use blood magic_. He’s written here, _an empty threat._ But I don’t think that’s true, is it, spellbind?”

“I was a _child_!”

 _Thump._ He kicks me back down. I don’t know why I expected him to feel pity. I am a child _now._

“ _Incident three_!” He pushes my shoulders down, and kneels on my back, holding me in place. My cheek is pressed uncomfortably to the floor. “ _Trevelyan has interrupted lessons by screaming about her desire to become an abomination_.” I would have laughed at these incidents yesterday.

“If that is your wish, Trevelyan, why don’t we make it come true?” A cold dread overcomes my body. _No. Please, no._

A green flash interrupts my dream. I awake.

Since I was marked by this strange magic, my old dreams have returned, and no amount of meditation or focus will stop them. It is odd that my old fears are the focus, despite so much new turmoil in my life.

Once again, magic finds me bound to an organisation. I have more say here with the Inquisition than I did with the Circle, but I cannot let my guard down. Only a month ago I was their prisoner, a scapegoat for whoever truly caused this chaos, and they could just as easily turn on me again.

But I suppose I am valued, to a point – I am treated as an equal, most of the time. Varric is kind and tells me all kinds of stories during our travels – he seemed shocked that I had never read _Tales of the Champion_ , and it seems to have made him very happy to retell the tale to a fresh pair of ears. Solas is reserved but seems very knowledgeable about the mark and the Fade, which gives me some reassurance. Cassandra is a force of nature, but I can tell she is trying to be friendlier to me. They have all shared bits and pieces of themselves with me, trying to encourage me to share too. A pointless effort on their part.

I suspect the spymaster, Leliana, has put them up to it. Wanting to see what information I will willingly part with, so they can verify their findings. I’m sure she has all she needs to know about me, and if she is so talented then she can verify her sources without my help.

Josephine seems keen to use my family name to the Inquisition’s advantage, but unfortunately, my being a mage ruined that chance years ago. She mentioned my Great-Aunt Lucille excitedly, hoping to relate to me on _something_ , but I never went to any of her parties. She’s stopped asking any more questions for now.

Cullen is the quietest of the advisors. I hear he was Knight-Captain of Kirkwall before his position here. He’s more than likely keeping his distance from me purposefully, observing me as covertly as he can. I don’t blame him. I’m not letting my guard down around _him_ , either.

Even with the world being as it is, with so much changed and turned on its head, I can’t part with Reagan’s words. _Share nothing. Show nothing. Be nothing._

I will work with these people to do good, and to help close the Breach. But I cannot be their friend.

 

* * *

 

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

Mother Giselle has reached Haven and shared with Leliana the names of those who might meet us in Val Royeaux. This plan sounds ridiculous and dangerous to me, but if the rest of you believe it is the right course of action, I will support it.

Request for an update on the rebel mages and rogue templars.

Commander Cullen

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

I am inclined to agree with you that it is a ridiculous plan but considering that there are demons running around Thedas and the Chantry seem content to do approximately nothing about it, it is fair to say that we are dealing with ridiculous people. In terms of danger, I think I’ll be fine. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that I am a rather talented Enchanter.

We’ve located the whereabouts of both groups, and plan to approach the mages tomorrow at first light. The templars are camped south of the West Road, and if all goes well, we shall be visiting them the following day.

I expect both groups to be hostile, but Maker help us, some might be willing to lay down their weapons and come with the Inquisition. I’ve seen some young faces in the mages so far – most of these people can’t have been Harrowed too long ago.

Enchanter Trevelyan

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

From previous reports, these mages have gone mad with power, and I am wary of any of them joining our ranks. The templars may be more willing to listen to reason.

Be careful.

Commander

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander.

~~I understand you were a Templar. Please understand I~~

~~For your information,~~

Both mage and templar bases have been neutralised. I recognised faces from Ostwick in both organisations. No one was willing to listen to reason.

It appears power-related madness is not exclusive to those with magic.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

I’m sorry that you had to battle faces from your past – it can’t have been easy.

I am glad, however, to hear the rebel mages have been neutralised. Good work. The village will be safe from apostates and maleficar.

Be safe,

Commander.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

There were no _maleficar_ among the mages, and for the record, we are _all_ apostates now.

The villagers will also be safe from power-starved templars threatening their loved ones, but I see you have neglected to acknowledge this.

We shall return to Haven shortly.

Enchanter Trevelyan

 

* * *

_[An extract from Zara Trevelyan’s journal]_

Our first long mission out from Haven, and I can now see that being alone in the months since Ostwick disbanded has not done me well. I’ve forgotten how to compose myself around others, and I find myself losing my temper much easier than before. I fear repercussion for my attitude to Cullen when I return.

I’m told that I am an equal part of this organisation, but my instincts tell me otherwise.

I am unsure what to make of this Inquisition thus far. I joined because between this mark and being witch-hunted by the Chantry, I had no other real choice. I can see that there is a real opportunity to make a difference here – the Crossroads have proven that. I insisted we couldn’t leave until we had helped the villagers, and thankfully they agreed.

I think… I think deep down, I would like to be their equal, and the fool part of me believes there is a chance I might be. But if I were to let my true self out, I fear it would come back to hurt me.

 _Share nothing. Show nothing. Be nothing,_ Reagan said. It’s what kept me alive in the Circle. But I live in a different world now.

 

* * *

_[An extract from Zara Trevelyan’s journal]_

On our return to Haven, I split off from Cassandra as soon as we reached the training grounds and made myself lost among the crowd.

I wanted to observe Cullen’s demeanour before I had to speak to him again, to gauge how he may have reacted to my letter. Was he an indignant man, enraged at the slightest incident? I figured watching him train would give me an answer.

Perhaps I was being overzealous, but I had learnt long ago not take chances around templars. And now ex-templars, I suppose.

Between the clangs of sword against shield, I heard him, authoritative and strong, ordering recruits about. An instruction here, a suggestion there, his voice became louder as he moved through the crowd. I slid through soldiers, keeping an eye on him from a safe distance. His face came into view, and despite his barking, he had a smile on his face. The recruits respected him.

I began to approach, but just before I reached him, I was almost knocked over by a recruit leaping to avoid his opponent's swing.

Strong metal arms caught me and lifted me back to my feet, and I looked up to see Cullen with a stern expression.

“There’s a shield in your hand! Block with it!” I flinched before grasping his words were directed at the recruit that had plummeted into me. He frowned at me apologetically and, realising he was still holding on to me, let go of me like I was on fire. “Herald… I didn’t realise you were back.”

“We just arrived.” I nodded to the recruit who had knocked me to get back to his training.

“Welcome back. Might I suggest not entering through the training grounds next time, however?” He gestured to an opening in the troops, and I fell into step beside him. “We’ve had a number of recruits, some locals from Haven and some pilgrims. Even some from the Hinterlands as of recent,” he smiled. “None made quite the entrance you did.”

“I just hope I can help,” I said carefully, hands clasped behind my back.

“It is enough that you would try.” A messenger came over to us, and Cullen paused to sign some reports. “You’ve come a long way to reach Haven. You’re from the circle in Ostwick?”

“I am.” He turned back, clearly expecting something more. “It feels strange, being away.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I’m still getting used to it myself. I was serving in Kirk-“

“Yes, Knight Captain, I’m sure the Circle was very bleak from _your_ side of the bars.” I snapped.

My heart stopped. I froze, anticipating a punch to the cheek, something, _anything-_

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to-“ he sighed, looking uncomfortable. “I was hoping to find common ground. I realise I didn’t come across as particularly… welcoming, in my letters.” I could hardly believe my ears – I had talked back to a templar, and he had _apologised_ to me? “I’ve seen the suffering magic can inflict. I’ve treated mages with distrust because of it – often without cause. It was unworthy of me. I will try not to do so here.”

“I see.” He seemed awkward, shifting his weight between his feet. Looking back, I should have left there and then, but I was so _surprised_ at his demeanour, I couldn’t help but give him a chance. “You said you were serving in Kirkwall?”

He straightened up and began continuing his walk through the crowd.

“I was there during the mage uprising. I saw first-hand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position here, I left the Templars to join her cause.”

“You left the templars for this. You believe the Inquisition can work?”

“I do. The Chantry lost control over templars and mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act where the Chanty could not. There’s so much we can-“ He paused, perhaps spotting my smirk. “Forgive me. I doubt you came for a lecture.”

“No, but if you have one prepared, then I’d love to hear it.”

He laughed, deep and rumbling. “Another time, perhaps.”

I smiled. A true, honest smile, the first one in a long while. Our eyes met, and his confident grin faded to an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“I, uh… There’s still a lot of work ahead…” He trailed off, averting his gaze. Another messenger called for his attention, and he snapped back to Commander, raising his chin, that confident smirk coming back. “As I was saying,” he quipped, dipping his head in farewell.

I returned to my quarters, internally reprimanding myself for being a damned fool. It is good that I spoke to him, even if I snapped, and established a peaceful working relationship, but I should not have engaged in anything beyond that. Friendship is off-limits for me, especially with someone like him.

For years, I have been sure to be as placid as possible in front of templars – but something about being here, being part of the Inquisition, makes me feel like I don’t have to be. It is a dangerous thought, one that is sure to get me into an unfortunate situation if it continues. I have forgotten my pledge to myself, forgotten how to keep myself safe, and I must be sure to remember how to compose myself into tranquillity. My next excursion requires me to confront the Chantry in Val Royeaux, and I think it will be best if I let Cassandra do most of the talking. If I keep quiet, hopefully I won’t manage to get myself involved any deeper in this mess.

 

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

I was on my way to the War Council this morning, but outside the Chantry there was a large commotion.

“Your kind killed the most Holy!” An irate templar was squaring up to a mage I recognised from Ostwick.

“Lies! _Your_ kind let her die!” The Ostwick mage was always a fool and proved to still be as much when I saw him walking into a fight.

“Shut your mouth, _mage!_ ” The templar reached for his sword, but before I could react Cullen came bounding between them.

“ENOUGH!” His arms outstretched, pushing the two men apart. I noted he used much more force with the templar.

“Knight-Captain!”

“That is _not_ my title. We are _not_ templars any longer.” He seemed – distressed, to still be called Knight-Captain. It made me feel guilty for calling him that title before. “We are _all_ part of the Inquisition!”

I walked up to Cullen, wanting to aide in breaking the tension, but it appeared Chancellor Roderick had returned. Joy.

“And what does that mean, exactly?” The crotchety old man slithered through the crowd to the forefront.

Cullen’s eyes rolled. “Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m _curious_ , Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its “Herald”,” he made an indignant gesture towards me as I walked up to them both, “will restore order as you’ve promised.”

“Of course you are.” The sarcasm spilt from Cullen’s tongue before he yelled to the crowd. “Back to your duties, all of you!”

As I reached Cullen, he ignored Roderick to inform me of the situation.

“Mages and templars were already at war. Now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.” I opened my mouth to offer solutions, but the Chancellor once again chimed in.

“Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order!” He spat as he talked, I noticed. Quite grotesque.

“Who, you? A random cleric who wasn’t important enough to be at the Conclave?” Cullen folded his arms and stared the man down. Assertive, but not quite intimidating.

“The rebel Inquisition and it’s so-called “Herald of Andraste”? I think not!”

I sighed, exasperated. I do wish people would stop calling me that.

“I don’t believe I’m Andraste’s Herald any more than you do, Chancellor.” He sneered at me, up and down.

“That laudable humility won’t stop the Inquisition from using the misconception when it suits them.”

“The Inquisition claims only we must close the Breach or perish,” Cullen protested.

I tired of listening to this back and forth. “Remind me why you’re allowing the Chancellor to stay?”

“Clearly, your _templar_ knows where to draw the line.” I felt strangely defensive for Cullen, for the way the Chancellor spat out that word.

“He’s toothless. No point turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth.” Cullen’s expression turned sympathetic. “A good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however.”

“Well, let’s hope we find solutions and not a cathedral full of chancellors.”

“The stuff of nightmares,” Cullen whispered, straight-faced. I couldn’t help my snort of laughter.

“Mock, if you will. I’m certain the Maker is less… _amused_.” He left, finally.

Cullen and I looked at each other, and we both let ourselves have a small chuckle. I continued into the Chantry, and Cullen followed behind.

“We do need some plan to prevent incidents like this again. We can’t have the mages and templars festering their anger at each other at a time like this.”

I turned, pleasantly surprised at Cullen’s words.

“Planning on improving mage-templar dialogue, are you?”

“Well, perhaps we could start with each other?” He smiled, being called away by a Lieutenant before I could respond.

He is – not what I expected. Perhaps there are some templars who really do want change.


	2. I Do Not 'Fuss'

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

Our short time in Val Royeaux has certainly proven interesting. On our arrival, Revered Mother Hevara publicly denounced us, declaring us heretics. As we were trying to defend ourselves, Lord Seeker Lucius showed up with a contingent of templars and proceeded to punch her in the face. After mocking her, he began to leave and had absolutely no interest in speaking to us or Cassandra. According to her, this was out of character for the Lord Seeker.

We received some invitations from Court Enchanter Vivienne and the Friends of Red Jenny and intend to meet with them later in the week.

Upon leaving the city to return to our camp, we were approached by none other than Grand Enchanter Fiona, who has invited us to Redcliffe to negotiate a potential alliance. It all seems very convenient to me, but I am inclined to take her up on the offer as I did just witness the Lord Seeker knock a Revered Mother out.

Sincerely,

Enchanter Trevelyan

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

I have passed the information on to Josephine and Leliana. We request you join us at Haven for a discussion before deciding on any action regarding approaching the templars or mages. Surely not all templars will share Lucius’ view.

It certainly seems you have had an interesting time – please take proper precautions regarding these meetings. We are still unsure of who we can truly trust. Read: Take Cassandra with you.

Take care.

Commander Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

 _Of_ _course,_ I’m going to take her with me. The woman could intimidate a bear onto its knees. That’s not an exaggeration, either. I’ve seen it.

Enchanter Trevelyan

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

I cannot determine my own mind these days. For a decade and a half, I have resolved myself to tranquillity, to not speaking out of turn, to blend in as much as possible. It was what kept me alive under Galerius’ watchful eye as I rose through the ranks of the Circle.

_Share nothing. Show nothing. Be nothing._

It is the mantra I have followed for years – but I just can’t anymore. Blending in is impossible these days, and I am tired of it. Galerius is gone, far from me, and it no longer benefits me to be silent.

This is not the first time I have questioned why I live the life I do, but my previous answers have no application to this new world I have found myself in. My own survival no longer needs to be at the forefront of my priorities, and I find myself wanting to be part of something bigger. Perhaps that place is with the Inquisition, but am I fooling myself in thinking so?

I told myself I couldn’t be their friend, but I’ve gone back on my word. Cassandra supports me whenever I reveal parts of myself to them, eager to hear more about my life. Varric enjoys teasing me and has endearingly named me ‘Freckles’. Solas is quieter than the other two, but I enjoy discussing the differences in our magical teachings. And Cullen…

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

We are now on our way back to Haven, with Court Enchanter Vivienne and a young woman named Sera joining us. Vivienne is a very talented mage, and I’m sure Josephine will appreciate having someone so knowledgeable about the Orlesian Court with us. Sera is part of a group named the Red Jenny’s – I’m sure Leliana will have heard of them. I believe most of her time is spent upsetting nobility - maybe a bit criminal for your taste, but otherwise I thought you might like the idea.

Between all the angry Chantry sisters and demons that I continuously must deal with, I’m quite looking forward to a night in Haven.

Enchanter Trevelyan

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

I’m afraid I have bad news for you then, we have missing soldiers in the Storm Coast, and Scout Harding suspects foul play. I’m sorry to ask, but I request for you to set off to meet her there as soon as possible. Time is of the essence.

Commander Cullen

* * *

_[An extract from Cassandra Pentaghast’s personal journal]_

Ever since the Herald and I have been travelling together, Leliana has pressed me to gather as much information as possible – why she was at the Conclave, what she was doing beforehand, what her time in the Circle was like. But for a while, it was difficult to get her to tell me anything – she didn’t trust any of us, least of all _me_ who had kept her imprisoned at first. The most I could gather was that she was a powerful mage, and at one time had been a talented researcher, and the extent of her goals seem to be to help those affected by the breach.

Truly? She was difficult – and dull -to be around. But now, after a few weeks, she has begun to change. Today, not for the first time, I asked her about Ostwick and whether she had any regrets about leaving. For once, she freely shared with us.

“I don’t miss it much,” she began, “But I was due to become a Senior Enchanter a few days before the rebellion started. I’d spent months trying to convince my colleagues I was deserving of the position. A lot of them didn’t like me much, so it is a _little_ annoying I didn’t get to hear any of them call me ‘Senior Enchanter Trevelyan’.

“Why didn’t they like you?” I asked.

“Said I was too friendly with the Templars. I was only friendly to one of them.”

“Friendly, eh? You guys were totally doing it, right?” Varric has no tact.

“Not _that_ kind of friendly, I’m afraid. He was a _templar_ after all, and I don’t have a death wish. He was also a bit older than me, and he wasn’t that pretty…”

“If he’s old and ugly, how come you were so nice to him?”

“Varric!” She pretended to slap Varric round the back of his head. “He was a nice man. I wanted to train to be a Knight Enchanter, but the Knight-Commander and I weren’t on the best of terms. He wouldn’t approve it. Reagan used to train me with a sword at night, in secret. Said it was the best he could do under the circumstances.”

“Your place had Knight-Commander problems too, I see.” That dwarf always makes light of dire situations.

“Well, my place, yes, but particularly me. We had a… disagreement, when I was young. I did my best to avoid him since.”

Her comment about her Knight-Commander troubles me. I accidentally stumbled into her tent while she was changing, and she seemed to have many scars across her back. I could see the scars formed shapes of some kind but didn’t make sense of them before she covered herself. I wanted to ask, but I know it would not have been a light topic of discussion. Perhaps when she is ready, she will tell me herself.

Something in her life made her afraid to trust, that much I can see. I hope she is soon able to trust me.

I have not mentioned the scars to Leliana, despite her requests for more information on the Herald. It is too personal in nature, and Leliana would no doubt meddle beyond reason. I owe it to Zara to keep this to myself. She did not pry into Anthony, after all.

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

I am indescribably exhausted. I have spent my life in a Circle – the most I walked each day was from the back of the gardens to the top of the tower. In the Inquisition we travel non-stop, we fight demons, we kill people who try to kill us – it’s never-ending. It is getting easier, but I am in dire need of a rest. We are a week away from the Storm Coast, and I know as soon as I arrive, I will likely be sent straight into battle and I’m not sure I am capable of it in my current state. I used to dream of a life of adventure, being able to use my magic with purpose, and I suppose this is it. Highs come with lows.

My exhaustion is betraying me – I just do not have the mental energy to keep up any charade of calm. Although, I do not seem to be in any more danger than I used to be. I would even say my experience travelling with these people has even improved since I have just… been myself.

Some habits are hard to break, but I believe it is time to let go of Galerius’ hold – the man is not in my life anymore, and I have my phylactery. He can’t find me, and I might even say that if he were to discover me and try and make me Tranquil, there would be several individuals who would help me put up a fight, and I’ve only gotten better at fighting since being here.

I wish I could thank Knight-Captain Reagan for his training.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

It has been several weeks since our last correspondence, and I just wanted to thank you for setting out to the Storm Coast so quickly. I understand you are tired, and I apologise. We are incredibly grateful for your assistance.

 _I_ am incredibly grateful.

I wish you the best of luck with the missing soldiers.

A messenger came by and spoke to a recruit – a mercenary company by the name of the Bull’s Chargers wish to meet with you to discuss recruitment. Their leader is a qunari named Iron Bull. They are due to be at the Storm Coast in a week’s time if you wanted to investigate.

Safe travels,

Commander

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

Truthfully, I am exhausted. And I am afraid I can only deliver bad news – our missing soldiers are dead, killed by a cult named the Blades of Hessarian. I have found a letter from one cult member to another, speaking of some ritual to do with a necklace and challenging the cult leader. Either way, those responsible will soon be dead.

Tomorrow I will meet with the Bull’s Chargers. I’ll keep you informed.

Yours,

Enchanter Trevelyan

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Commander,

I met with the Chargers and decided to recruit them into the Inquisition – but it was not as straightforward as I thought. The Iron Bull is a Ben-Hassrath spy, who plans to send information back to the Qunari in exchange for sharing his own reports with us. I’ve sent more information to Leliana. Don’t start fussing.

Our progress in exploring the area has been slightly hindered by yet _another_ dragon and a giant. We killed the giant. The dragon flew away. Again, don’t start fussing.

We will be leaving the Storm Coast shortly, once we have dealt with the Blades and investigated this business with Wardens.

It is _bloody miserable_ here.

Yours,

Enchanter Trevelyan

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

I do not ‘fuss’. ~~But please look after you~~

I look forward to your return. I miss our morning talks.

Safe travels,

Cullen

 

* * *

_[An extract from Cullen Rutherford’s journal;]_

I realised only after I sent it that I had been too personal in my letter to Trevelyan. Whilst I have enjoyed our letters, it is important to maintain a professional distance. I may also be embarrassed.

When I first met her, I found her unremarkable. Meek, quiet, never speaking up about anything - but after she came back from the Hinterlands, she was different.

Since the altercation with Roderick, we speak regularly in the mornings. She comes to watch over the training with me, which has proven extremely beneficial to troop morale. She asks a lot of questions; about training tactics, our different types of units, how we might go about incorporating mages into these units. I very much enjoy our conversations.

She is incredibly intelligent and knows a lot more than I would have guessed about combat tactics, and when she joins in to train with the recruits, I can’t help but feel pride, even though I have nothing to do with it.

~~It has been a very long time since a pretty girl wanted to speak to me~~

Rylen has made several comments about me smiling around her, to which I respond with a swift kick to the shins, but I know he is right. When we first spoke, I would have laughed at the idea that I could have felt something for her. She was a mage, and our prisoner, but now…

She likes to try and discuss magic with me. Maybe she thinks it will make me more comfortable if I understand it. I can’t always say it helps, but I at least feel comfortable around _her_.

I know I should stop fooling myself – she’s the _Herald_ , for Andraste’s sake – but I have not had any feeling like this in quite some time. She has beautiful green eyes, and freckles that follow down her neck beneath her shirt, ~~and I sometimes think what it might be like to ki~~

She is a lovely woman. But I must remember to keep my distance, for her sake. I would not want to embarrass her or make her uncomfortable because of an ill-thought-out infatuation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone reading. Please leave feedback if there is something I can improve on!
> 
> 26/01 - Again this has changed. Chapter 1 & 2 didn't have massive edits, but just noting for clarity purposes.


	3. Improvise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tweaked the last two chapters a little, so apologies for that. I'm going to space chapters out more so I don't wake up in the middle of the night needing to edit them. I am very sure I am happy with this one, so please enjoy! It's a little short. Chapters will be increasing in length around chapter 6.
> 
> 26/01 - So here is when some larger edits occurred. I would recommend rereading so you're fully up to date.

_[A mission report to Commander Cullen from Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Mission Objectives

Find the location of missing soldiers: Soldiers killed. Killers located and dealt with.

Investigate Warden activity: Achieved. Warden’s have disappeared from the coast but were searching for someone.

Investigate the surrounding area: Partly achieved. Excursions interrupted by a dragon.

Make contact with Bull’s Chargers: Achieved. Chargers recruited.

Close rifts: Three rifts closed. To the party’s knowledge, no more exist in this area, but scouting is required.

 

Report

Business in Storm Coast is concluded, although a high dragon does remain active in the area. Bull’s Chargers are on route to Haven independent of the Herald’s party – Bull himself is travelling with us. Demon activity in the area is relatively low.

Blades of Hessarian have also been recruited and remain in the Storm Coast at the Herald’s disposal. _(This is important – they are loyal as they believe me to be the Herald of Andraste – so mention me whenever you instruct them.)_

Party will be returning to Haven. ETA two weeks.

* * *

_[A letter to Commander Cullen from Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Cullen,

I’ll spare the details as I’m sure you’ll read the report, but our business here is concluded, and we leave for Haven tomorrow. I am sick and tired of the rain and constant dampness, and am incredibly eager for a night in Haven, with an actual roof.

I know I’ve been reluctant to be the one to make a decision on whether we approach the mages or templars for help with the Breach, but if I am going to be the tiebreaker, then I think my decision is to speak to the mages.

I know this is not the outcome you hoped for, but there are children and tranquil in the ranks of the mages, and at the end of the day I feel it is the Inquisition’s duty to protect the most vulnerable. I do hope to continue to encourage templars to join our cause and would like to speak to you further about improving mage-templar dialogue. We discussed mixed military units – I’d like to explore this option.

I hope you’re well.

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Cassandra Pentaghast to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

I received your last letter discreetly, do not worry.

You do not need me to remind you why you do this. You have that strength in yourself.

Speak to Adan, ask for Recruit Portia’s potion. He won’t ask questions. It’ll help. Take it.

I am sorry not to be with you at this time, my friend.

Cassandra

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

A week and a half passed with no letter from Cullen, despite receiving supply reports and requisitions signed off by him. Perhaps he is too busy to write letters of a personal nature to me, but I worry that he is angry I want to ally with the mages.

Maker, I’ve been so idiotic. To think I thought…

It doesn’t matter. I am a mage, and I must remember that. He was a templar, and I must remember that. If any budding ~~re~~ friendship we might have had cannot overcome these facts, then I must accept it.

Even so, I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my face when another day came without any word. Varric shuffled over to me in camp that evening.

“Why so glum, Freckles?” My eyes flickered up to him, and I just shrugged, far too embarrassed to say the truth. But I remembered Varric knew Cullen before the Inquisition, and my curiosity got the better of me. Varric liked telling stories, after all.

“You knew Cullen in Kirkwall, right Varric?”

He looked taken aback for a moment, then composed himself. He shifted in his seat.

“Curly? A little, sure. Why?”

“What was he like? You must have some embarrassing stories of our Commander.” I tried to forge a smile.

“Different.”

“That’s it?”

He shrugged.

“I didn’t know him well, Freckles.”

“The two of you weren’t friends?” He shook his head. “What about him and Hawke?”

He laughed. “Maker’s ass, no! Hawke was an _apostate_ , she didn’t make nice with Cullen. She did like to come around, wave her staff around in front of him. Really pissed him off.” Varric smiled to himself at the memory.

“Oh. I see.”

“We helped him out one time, but they argued the whole time. He kicked a templar recruit in the balls in front of us because he suspected the guy of being an abomination. It worked, though.”

“He suspected a _templar_?”

“It’s a long story. Kirkwall was a mess. Still is.” He took a long swig out of his goblet.

Cassandra emerged from our shared tent and sat next to me.

“Varric, how about I sit around telling everyone about _your_ less favourable moments?” There was a hint of venom in her words. He spread his hands defensively.

“I’m just answering the question, Seeker! And besides, there are none to speak of, obviously.” She narrowed her eyes, and he took the hint to retire to his own tent with Solas. When he was gone, Cassandra spoke softly.

“Why so curious about the Commander?”

“I just – I wanted to get a better idea of what he thought of mages.” Cassandra cocked her head, frowning. “Alright, I wanted to get a better idea of what he might think of _me_ ,” I admitted. She scoffed.

“I wouldn’t go to Varric for any reliable information on _that_ matter.”

“I suppose. It’s just – I thought Varric might be able to tell me _something_. I thought Cullen and I were… becoming friends,” I mumbled. That was all I had intended to give her, but I found myself spilling the rest out, too.

“Listen, Cassandra, I’m a grown woman and I know this sounds ridiculous, but I have a lot of trouble making friends. I didn’t – couldn’t – have any in Ostwick because of… Well. No friends there, but here, with the Inquisition, my life is so _different_. I wasn’t used to it – Maker knows I gave you all a hard time at first. Eventually, I thought, so much else has changed, maybe I _could_ have friends here. Maybe a mage could be friends with a templar here. Maybe even… Anyway.” I sniffed. “I told him in my last letter that I was most likely going to approach the Redcliffe, thinking I could confide in him as a friend despite our differences, but he hasn’t even responded. I’m worried that-“

“That isn’t why he hasn’t written to you, Zara.” She spoke with such certainty, but the doubt had seeped into me.

“It’s not?”

“No. He has been through a lot in his time with the Chantry, yes, but he is not so unreasonable as to… The problem isn’t you. I cannot say more, but just know that. I’m sure when we return, he will be happy to see you.”

I felt ridiculous, complaining as if I were a teenager and not an almost thirty-year-old woman. But it has been a long time since I have felt any connection to anyone...

“I just don’t know what I’m doing here, Cassandra.”

She stood up and signalled me to come with her and walked me through the camp to edge of the hill we were settled on. She gestured to the village down below.

“All those people down there… Yesterday, they were in danger. Three rifts were in this area, and _you_ have closed them all. It was _you_ who insisted we come this way when you heard there was a settlement. _You_ who gave them herbs, meat, supplies. You have given these people safety, stability – and they pledge their support to Inquisition in return. They aren’t the only ones either. Much of the progress we have made has been because of _your_ decisions, Zara.”

“I’m not the only one –“

“No, you aren’t. But you have been the one making the decisions, even if you haven’t realised it.”

And I suppose she was right.

Cassandra and I discussed other matters for a short time, before retiring to our bedrolls. Before I fell asleep, she whispered into the tent.

“Zara?”

“Hm?”

“ _We_ are becoming friends too, by the way. You are not so bad at it.”

I smiled to myself in the dark.

“Goodnight, Cassandra.”

* * *

_[An extract from Cassandra Pentaghast’s journal]_

I have seen a change in our Herald in the days that followed our discussion. This woman, who I once thought so docile, passionless – something in her has snapped, and she now seems determined to be anything but. She has gradually been more open with us, yes, but now – I see the beginnings of leadership. Her confidence has soared, and she is much more assertive in her decisions, much more aggressive on the battlefield – although this is not _always_ to the benefit.

We engaged several demons today, emerging from a particularly large rift. She had gotten far too close to the pride demon, and while taking out a wraith, it had swept her up in one of its colossal hands. Varric managed to distract the beast, but as it whipped its lightning rope towards him, Zara panicked, crying out for me to get her down.

“And how in the Maker’s name do you propose I do that?” I grunted out, bearing the brunt of a shade’s attack on my shield.

“I DON’T KNOW, IMPROVISE!” she shouted, her voice wavering as she was swayed through the air. I would have laughed if the situation were not so dire.

Finishing off my own opponent, I took a moment to assess her situation. It was only a matter of time before the demon either crushed or threw her. “The eyes, Varric!” I cried out as I charged. I saw him nod in understanding, and he took aim, but the beast swayed towards me, causing the bolt to fly into his ear instead. It clapped its free hand over the injury and roared. It appeared to gear its arm ready to slam Zara into me, but she had managed to grab her staff in such a way to stab the creature with the blade, and it cried out once more, opening its palm to release her. I changed course to catch her, and only just managed to keep myself stable when her weight fell onto me.

“My hero,” she gritted out, not wasting any time in getting to her own feet.

The demon was weakened, and I took my opportunity to finally finish the job. Charging once more, I leapt off a nearby rock and managed to slice my blade deep into its chest and could feel Solas’s barrier on me as Zara froze the demon for good measure. It shattered beneath my sword, and I began to relax - until I heard a scream.

By the time I had turned Zara had barraged her opponent, allowing Varric to finish it off as she ran to close the rift. As she lifted her arm, I could see her armour had been ripped, and the skin beneath it coloured red.

Once the battle was over, she collapsed onto her knees, clutching her arm. We all ran to her. Solas immediately began attending to the wound.

“Shade got me when I wasn’t looking. Shouldn’t have been so careless.”

“Getting tossed around by a big ol’ pride demon can’t do much good for ya, either,” Varric added.

“Master Tethras is right. You appear to have bruised your ribs,” Solas frowned. “I’d recommend not getting so close to your opponent next time.”

Zara waved her free arm dismissively. “I was trying out something new. I was – “

“Improvising?” I chimed in. She smirked.

“Exactly.”

We managed to get her to a healer before too long, and aside from some slight scarring, she should make a full recovery soon, provided she doesn’t over-exert herself.

She seems more at peace with herself and her position in the Inquisition these days. I am glad to have her on our side.

It appears she is determined to go to Redcliffe for help with the Breach. I will not argue with her decision, seeing as the rest of us cannot agree, but I do hope she knows what she is doing. No doubt it will set a precedent for the Inquisition in the eyes of the Chantry. It will be interesting to see how this plays out, at least.

Maker, I can only pray I have done the right thing. I see no point in twiddling my thumbs, waiting for a new Divine to deal with this chaos – but doubt is not easily forgotten.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

Sorry for the delay in returning, but several rifts have appeared on our journey back to Haven, which has slowed our progress considerably. We are a week out from Haven, and scout reports tell us the rest of the path is mostly clear. Although, the reports were clear from the Storm Coast, so who knows.

I hope you are well, and that the recruits aren’t giving you too hard a time.

Enchanter Trevelyan

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

Nice try, but Cassandra told me what really happened. Might I suggest that getting picked up by a pride demon _not_ become a common tactic?

I apologise for my silence recently – a few poor headaches have caused me to neglect my correspondence. I hope _you_ are well – how are your ribs?

I’ll see you when you return.

Cullen


	4. Unnecessary Risks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have edited this several times, and I keep finding errors, but I think it is done. I release it to you, my dear readers! Thanks for checking it out.
> 
> I am finding my feet in regards to my characters voices. I hope I continue to improve.
> 
> 26/01 - This is another one that got a big overhaul. Again, I'd recommend re-reading <3

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

When we returned to Haven, it was late in the evening. I had intended to seek out Cullen. Despite Cassandra’s reassurances, I wanted to discuss the mages with him – and, truly, I missed his company - but Varric persuaded me to drink with him in the tavern instead. As I sit here writing, my head tells me it was a poor decision.

When I arrived, he was sitting with Sera and Iron Bull, who seemed to have made themselves quite at home already, merrily singing along to Maryden’s tune. I sat down hesitantly next to Varric.

“Freckles!” He exclaimed, pushing a tankard of mysterious liquid towards me. “Have a drink with us!”

“Freckles, hm? Can I give you a name too? Something like… Andraste’s Bean Flicker!” Sera asked, grinning.

I shrugged, more concerned with my tankard. “Not as catchy.” I side-eyed Varric. “What’s in this? It smells… strange.”

“That’s my own lil’ concoction.” Iron Bull stated proudly. “It’s not poisonous, I promise. They’ve all been drinking it.”

“They? Not we?”

He shook his head dismissively. “Too weak for me. I’ve got my own shit.”

I took a deep breath before swigging it down. I got about most of the way through before slamming the tankard down, coughing.

“ _Weak?!_ ”

Varric thumped me on the back a couple of times, laughing. Sera giggled along.

“That’s worse than I was! When we was waiting for you to come back after you smashed your ribs, Bull he gave me three jugs of the stuff. Good night.”

I eventually recovered, feeling a burning sensation remain in my throat.

“Is this a good time to say I’ve never drunk before?”

All three slammed their hands on the table in shock. “ _What_?!”

I was quite confused. I didn’t think that news was quite as shocking as they made out.

“You’re telling me, you never drank a _drop_ , and you just threw back a _tankard_ of qunari ale like it was water! Bullshit!”

“It is not! You could ask anyone from Ostwick.”

They stared at me incredulously. Clearly, they considered this an impressive feat.

Sera jumped up, scouting the tavern for various liquors. She took some from soldiers, who seemed annoyed until she whispered something in their ear, when they would turn to me and giggle.

“What’s she doing? It’s making me nervous.” I kept an eye on her as she made her way through the tavern, gathering a dangerous armful of tankards.

“Did you really smash your ribs, boss? I thought you just got distracted picking up some plants again.”

“Yeah, got thrown about by a pride demon. Not my best moment, really. And for the record, I collect herbs, that _you_ use for medicine, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved dismissively. “You should probably stay away from the front line. You realise you’re a mage, right?”

I held up my hand.

“Save it. I already got the lecture from the rest of them.”

“Hey! I didn’t lecture!” Varric added indignantly.

Sera returned, slamming tankard after tankard in front of me. She had attracted quite a crowd.

“Alright, who wants to see how the Herald of Andraste can handle her ale?!” She shouted, to which the crowd responded with cheers and raised drinks. I started tugging on her sleeve for her to stop.

“Sera! You can’t be serious!” I whispered harshly.

“C’mon! We’ve been out in the field for _weeks_ , have some fun!”

I looked around to Varric and Bull, who seemed eager for me to try. I shrugged and picked up a random tankard and began chugging, to which the tavern bellowed out in more cheers.

As the night continued, the three of them seemed to find it amusing to give me different mixes of drink to see my reaction, which may or may not have resulted in my unintended intoxication. A lot of the soldiers ended up joining in, and my memory is hazy now, but I seem to remember being picked up and galivanted around the tavern to the tune of some Ferelden song about Andraste owning a mabari. I’d never heard it before, but I think I still attempted singing along anyway.

In the hour after sunrise, unable to find restful sleep, I found myself on Haven’s steps with Bull, staring out onto the training grounds. Cullen was already up, working with some of the recruits. The clang of metal was beginning to hurt my head.

Bull nodded approvingly at the sight. “They’ve got good form. Cullen’s putting his templar training to good use.”

“Did Cullen tell you he was a templar? He’s not wearing the armour.”

“He didn’t have to. Might not be a templar shield, but it’s a templar holding it. He angles just a bit down. Helps direct fire or acid away, so it doesn’t spray right into your face. Qunari learn the same thing when we train to fight Tevinter mages. Your templar’s doing good work.”

“He’s not _my_ templar,” I spoke a little defensively, and Bull raised his brow. I cleared my throat. “I’m impressed by what Cullen has accomplished with the troops.” _Pleasedon’tbringituppleasedon’tbringitup_

He didn’t bring it up.

“Damn right. It takes time to build a group into a team. But he’s got their loyalty.” A loud crash sounded from the troops, followed by Cullen barking at them to get up. “Now he just needs them to make a decent shield wall, and they’ll be good to go.” Bull raised his head slightly, contemplating. “Biggest problem for the Inquisition right now isn’t on the front line. It’s at the top. You’ve got no leader. No Inquisitor.”

“Then maybe we need one. I’d be willing.” I was more than surprised to hear the words coming out of my own mouth. Perhaps I was a little drunk still.

“You? Huh.” Bull turned, took a good, hard look at me. “Why you?”

I breathed, thinking about my answer. “No one else seems to be stepping forward, and since I can seal rifts, I’m here whether I like it or not. If it proved necessary to have an Inquisitor, I could make a go of it.”

Bull hummed approvingly.

I have always been an ambitious woman at heart – even in the years after my Harrowing, despite trying to keep my head down in front of Galerius, I did what I could to get recognised by my peers. I dedicated all my time to my research, doing what I could to improve our teaching to apprentices in order to help them pass their own Harrowing. I sacrificed my own desires to ensure the safety of those around me, pushing away anyone who might try and get close to me.

I have always been one to make sacrifices, to do whatever it took to climb the ranks. It should not be such a shock that I find myself wanting to do the same here.

 

It is later in the day, and I found an opportunity to speak to Cullen, at last. I spotted him after the morning training, signing off something from a man with a tattooed face, who I believe to be Knight-Captain Rylen.

I felt a little nervous. It had been weeks seen we had last spoken.

“Commander.”

His eyes lit up when he saw me. That was – nice.

“Herald. I’m glad to see you in one piece.” He nodded Rylen off, who had a sly smile on his face. “Have you been to see Adan?”

“I’m fine, not to worry. Healers at the camp saw to most of the damage. I just have to be careful not to get crushed again anytime soon. Will you take a walk with me?”

“Of course.” I led him down towards the frozen lake, trying to ignore that I was slightly dizzy still. I began to ramble.

“I know you probably aren’t happy with my choice to go to Redcliffe – I don’t want you to think I don’t value your counsel, because I do. But Lucius did _punch_ a Chantry mother, whilst Fiona extended a friendly invitation, so I’m sure you can understand why – “

“You are well within your rights to make that decision, Herald. I’m not begrudging you for it.”

“No? But I thought… You never responded to my letter, I assumed – “

“Ah.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

I shot him a quizzical look. “Ah?”

“If I’m honest… that letter likely got lost in a mess. I don’t recall ever reading anything from you about the mages in Redcliffe.” I remarked that as uncharacteristically… _unprofessional_ , I suppose, but didn’t want to press further. He wasn’t angry at me, and even seemed somewhat happy to see me. “You are planning to meet with the Grand Enchanter, then?”

“I am. I was hoping for a Council meeting to discuss the matter first, of course. But perhaps later, after I’ve slept a little more. Varric convinced me to go the tavern with him last night. A slight mistake.” I smiled.

As clouds moved across the sky, the morning sun began to shine brightly across the training grounds.

He chuckled. “I _did_ overhear a colourful tale this morning of – _ah_!”

When the sunlight reached Cullen’s eyes, he grimaced, turning away with a grunt of pain. I gently touched his arm, trying to get him to look at me, but he kept his eyes shut tight.

“Are you alright?”

“Just another headache, I’m fine.” Another?

“Do you get headaches often, Cullen?”

Before he could answer me, Rylen came running to us, shouting for Cullen’s attention.

“Commander! Urgent word from the bog.” I began to leave but Rylen shook his head at me. “You’ll be wanting to hear this, my lady.”

I watched Cullen scan the paper, and when his eyes finally met mine, they were filled with concern.

“We’re going to have to put a hold on that meeting, I’m afraid.”

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

The new Knight-Commander stands atop the dais, sneering down on us. He has said nothing, but the tension in the air is palpable. Most of the Templars around us look uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly, but some of them… Some of them look pleased, holding their heads high, standing proudly in their armour. There is a look in their eyes I can only describe as bloodthirsty. For the first time in a long time, I find myself almost feeling scared.

“I understand the previous Knight Commander was very lenient on you mages. Maybe even treated some of you as _friends_.” He spits on the ground beside him. “That will not be the case with me. Mages are dangerous and should be treated as such. Any mage found causing any sort of _ruckus_ ,” he snarls, and I cannot help but feel more than a few eyes flicker to me, “will be dealt with accordingly.” He begins to descend from the platform, letting the thunderous sound from each step echo before taking another. “If I have any reason to suspect any of you of being unable to pass your Harrowing, I will not hesitate to wield the brand. It is a mercy to prevent your fate being that of an abomination.”

My fellow apprentices look nervous. Any fear has been replaced by anger. How dare he threaten us! We are people too, are we not?

I stand, defiant.

“Tranquillity is only meant to be used as a last resort! You can’t treat us like this, Galerius!”

His eyes narrow on me. The First Enchanter behind him is horrified, shaking his head at me, mouthing something. _Sit down! Sit down!_ Odd. He has always been proud of my outspokenness before.

Galerius says nothing, but steps towards me. Apprentices shuffle their chairs out of his path, looking away. I won’t take my eyes off him. I won’t.

He stops short in front of me. He is a tall man, and I am only little, so I raise my chin to make up for how small I feel inside. For the first time in a long time, I find myself almost feeling intimidated.

“Zara Trevelyan.” I am a foolish girl, but even I knew that it was not good for him to _already_ know my name. “I’ve seen your file. You like being a disturbance, don’t you?”

I say nothing, trying to calm my rising heartbeat. I continue to stare, chin raised. _I cannot back down. Not now, not ever._

“Do you think it is _unfair_ that mages must live in the Circle, Zara?”

My silence angers him. His hands unfold themselves from behind his back, and he balls his fists at his sides.

“You’re a spoilt little brat, Trevelyan. The Maker cursed you because he knew what you would become. Mages like you are bound to become abominations.”

At last, I speak, repeating what I have always believed to be true. “Magic is a gift, not a curse.”

He strikes me across the cheek, a searing pain spreads through my jaw.

That is when I wake up, sweating, both hot and cold. I take in my surroundings. I am in a tent, someone sleeps beside me. Cassandra. She is a friend. I am with the Inquisition. I am safe.

It has been a very long time since I have had that dream, and it felt almost as real as the day it happened.

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We are well on our way to the Fallow Mire, due to arrive tomorrow as planned. The journey has been uneventful, aside from all these people I have apparently adopted getting to know each other.

Vivienne is lovely, if a little cutthroat, however, she and Sera _do not_ get along. Nor do Sera and Solas. Iron Bull fits unexpectedly well within the group – perhaps not so surprising, considering how diverse his own mercenary group are. I should not have gone drinking with them all, however – I am teased relentlessly.

If I’m honest, there is nothing to report - I had a troubling dream last night, and wish I were at Haven to speak with you during training to feel better. In lieu, I write this letter.

I hope you’re well. I suspect you do not want to talk about what was troubling before, so I won’t pry, but let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

Yours,

Zara

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

This dream sounds troubling indeed - what nature was this dream? Please speak to Cassandra if you feel you are at risk, immediately. Be vigilant. We don’t know what effect that mark may have.

 ~~I too wish you were at Haven~~ Thank you for setting out so quickly. I must agree that joining Varric for drinks is normally an unfortunate decision – I joined him once, on the ship from Kirkwall to Ferelden. The man cheated me out of far too much coin to remember, and I was the laughing stock of Lowtown for weeks.

I am, of course, far above barracks gossip, but I have heard some entertaining stories of your antics. It has made you even more popular if that was possible.

Be safe,

Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

‘Be vigilant’. Can templars ever offer any _other_ advice? I am not at risk of possession if that is your concern. The dream was troubling because it was an upsetting memory. I won’t discuss my dreams further, as it seems to put any templar on edge.

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We have pinpointed where our missing soldiers are, thanks to an Avvar named Sky Watcher. Our path getting to them is hindered by countless undead, but I have found a way to lessen then. We make siege on the Avvar holding tomorrow.

I will not have a repeat of the Storm Coast. Those soldiers are coming back to us alive.

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

Progress noted. Good luck and be safe.

Cullen

 

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

Our soldiers are safe, and the Avvar responsible for their capture is dead. Chieftain’s son got too arrogant for his own good. Sky Watcher – the Avvar I mentioned before – is on his way to join the Inquisition.

The contingent is tending to their wounds and making their return to Skyhold on their own. I have sent word to Leliana, and she is sending scouts to assist them.

I have also sent word ahead to Redcliffe of our acceptance of the mages’ invitation. She asked us to investigate a supposed Warden in the area nearby, and while we are in the area I might as well see what Fiona has to say.

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Herald,

Good work. I have let their families know they have been found safe – they are all incredibly grateful for your assistance.

Please be safe in Redcliffe. We don’t know what to expect from this meeting, and it is best not to take unnecessary risks when it comes to mages.

Cullen


	5. Some Fool Notion

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We are on our way to Haven with haste. There is much more to the mages than we thought – I will explain on arrival.

We arrive with Warden Blackwall. He had no information on the Grey Warden’s disappearance but seems willing to help. He will be a valuable asset in helping to train new recruits.

Zara

 

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

It has been a difficult morning. After presenting all my information to the council, they began arguing, _again._

“We don’t have the manpower to overtake the castle. Either we find another way in or give up this nonsense or go and get the templars!” Cullen’s impatience was evident.

“Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand.” Cassandra had not been convinced of my decision to approach the mages before, but thankfully after accompanying me to Redcliffe, she had changed her mind.

“Alexius’ letter asked for the Herald of Andraste _by name_. It is an obvious trap!”

“I understand your concerns Josephine, but there are children among the mage’s ranks, and the Tranquil – so many vulnerable people, indentured to a magister…” I shook my head. Leliana began muttering irritably across the table.

“And yet some of us want to sit and do _nothing_.”

“ _Not this again_ …” Josephine mumbled.

“Redcliffe Castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden,” Cullen snapped. “It has withstood thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you’ll _die_ , and we’ll lose -,” he paused momentarily, taking a sharp breath. “The only means we have of closing these rifts. I won’t allow it.”

“And if we do nothing, we lose the mages, and leave a foreign power on our doorstep!” Leliana retorted. Her voice was the only thing that gave away her frustration – her body language remained as calm as ever. I opened my mouth to argue our case further, but Josephine spoke first.

“Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for nought. An _Orlesian_ Inquisition’s army would provoke a war. Our hands are tied.”

“The _magister_ -“

“-Has _outplayed_ us.”

I thought for a moment, staring at the map laid before me.

“I can’t accept this. There is more at stake here than my own life – that magister is up to something and I can’t let him take hundreds of vulnerable people and use them for a nefarious purpose. You all read what I saw in that shed in Redcliffe – whoever the ‘Venatori’ are, they are dangerous. Leliana, you don’t know _any_ other way into the grounds?”

“Wait,” she said, her voice lilting. “There is a secret passage into the castle– an escape route for the family. Too narrow for our troops, but we could send agents through…”

“Too risky.” Cullen shook his head. “Those agents will be dead long before they get to the magister.”

“That’s why we need a distraction…” Leliana smiled at me knowingly. “Perhaps the envoy Alexius wants so badly?”

“While they’re focused on Trevelyan, we break the magisters defences – it could work, but it’s a huge risk.”

The door to the room slammed open, and in waltzed the mage that had asked me to meet with him in Redcliffe’s castle. “Fortunately, you’ll have help.”

Cullen looked alarmed, and I saw him reach for the pommel of his sword. I quickly introduced the mage to the room.

“Dorian, ladies and gentlemen. You’ll remember him from my report.”

He nodded to me, before addressing the room again. “Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help – if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.”

Cullen considered it for a moment, before looking up to meet my eyes.

“The plan puts you in the most danger. We can’t, in good conscience, order you to do this…”

“You aren’t ordering me to do anything, Commander. These are my people at risk.”

That was enough to end any further protests, and the rest of the meeting was spent finalising the details. Most of this was between Dorian and Leliana – all I had to do was stand pretty and engage Alexius long enough for our agents to get to the throne room.

I was growing distressed listening to them, unable to forget about what was at stake. When the meeting finally ended, I couldn’t leave quick enough. I made straight for the hills around Haven’s lake – one of the few places I could find some peace.

I slowed down only when I reached an opening among the trees, spotting a suitable rock to sit on, where I could be alone and contemplate the coming days.

Of course, I was not alone for long.

“Enchanter Trevelyan?” a quiet voice spoke out from behind me.

I guessed it was one of the mages from Ostwick, as very few people seem to know me as anything other than ‘Herald’ anymore, but when I turned around, ready to bark out something about wanting to be left alone, I was surprised to see the voice had come from Cullen. He had never addressed me by my name before.

“Are you alright?”

“Well, that depends, Commander. Are you asking about _me_ , or _my mark_ , as it seems so important to you?” He looked surprised, but I didn’t stop myself. “It must anger you, having to take so many _unnecessary risks_ with me.”

“Herald, I – “

“Go away, Cullen. I have no desire to speak with you right now.”

I sat, closing my eyes, waiting for him to leave. I heard him sigh.

“That – I was wrong, to say that to you. It isn’t how I think of you, at all.” He began closing the distance between us. “Any concern I have is for _you_ , because of who _you_ are. We’re putting you in a lot of danger – “

“The mages have put themselves in a lot of danger. Fiona is a fool.” I opened my eyes, looking out towards the lake. “Andraste, _what a mess_. She hasn’t even been watching the Tranquil properly. I wonder how many lives –“ I stopped. Cullen was a templar – he was unlikely to appreciate my sorrow for my people.

But he surprised me again when he placed a tentative hand on my shoulder. I looked up to meet his eyes. They were sad and understanding, and at a loss of what to say, I just placed my hand atop his own and did my best to smile thankfully. The scar that adorned his lip twitched upwards.

Cullen and I have had a difficult relationship – but for all his faults, he is an honourable man, capable of recognising his mistakes. I can work with that.

 “I’ll leave you be – but if you wish to talk later…” His hand slipped from my shoulder, and I found myself missing his touch. I nodded, and he left quietly.

 

* * *

_[A missive from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Could you come by my quarters later to talk?

If you have the time

\- Zara

 

* * *

_[An extract from Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

An hour or so after I sent the missive, there was a knock at my door. I called out that it was open, expecting the messenger to tell me the Commander was busy, but when I looked up, it was Cullen himself. I struggled to hide my surprise.

“Commander.”

“Herald.” He stopped in the doorway “May I come in?”

“Of course.” He was carrying a tray with two plates of food, two glasses, and two sets of cutleries. “You brought me dinner. Thank you.”

He kicked the door closed behind him and set the tray down on the table in front of me. “I could pretend it was on purpose, but I spotted one of the kitchen boys on their way to bring it to you.”

“Ah. I see.”

“I don’t have much time, but I just want to apologise, properly. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you – but I am trying to be better. I’m sorry that you seem to be getting the worst of my attempts.”

 “I forgive you. I would like it if we could at least try to be friends, Cullen. I have no intention of disliking you on principle.”

“That is reassuring,” he smiled. “Perhaps, as friends, you can tell me more about your dream?”

I nodded, and we sat at the table together.

“I’ve had bad dreams for most of my life, since I was fifteen. I haven’t had one in about a year, and when it happened again- “ I shook my head, not wanting to relive the memory. “Cullen, I don’t know why they’ve come back. I have a theory, but it doesn’t leave me with many solutions.”

“What’s your theory?” Cullen asked, reaching out across the table, his hand not quite touching mine. I lifted my eyes to meet his own, and I found an expression I had not seen on him before. I have had few friends before, but I’m sure that look was not one often shared between them.

A knock on my door interrupted whatever my answer was going to be.

“Ser, I apologise, but an urgent report has come in regarding our supply lines. It requires your attention.”

“I understand. I’ll be right there.” He stood up abruptly, converting back into Commander mode. “Herald, I’m afraid I must cut our conversation short. I shall see you at the war table first thing tomorrow.” And up he went.

I don’t know what that moment was, but it has not repeated itself since.

Why did he bring me two dinners?

 

* * *

_[An extract from Cullen Rutherford’s journal]_

Zara left this morning for Redcliffe. I am not relieved for her to be gone by any means, but it gives me space to think. The last few days have been strange.

When we were discussing approaching the mages for help, I couldn’t help but notice she was growing increasingly upset. When the meeting concluded, she almost ran out of the Chantry, and for some reason, I was compelled to follow her.

She stopped up the hill from the training grounds. I don’t know why I didn’t just leave her to her musings, but I decided to try and apologise. I’ve been unkind, I know, but perhaps that was not the right moment to explain myself.

I thought of when she touched me the day my withdrawal was particularly bad. It had brought me a strange sense of comfort, so I let my hand rest on her shoulder, to let her know I supported her, if nothing else. She placed her own hand on mine and smiled at me so sadly, so beautifully.

Then the next day, I went to her quarters with some fool notion of eating together. Of course, I lost my nerve when I saw her and apologised again. She _forgave_ me, and even tried to explain her dream to me, and Maker, she seemed so _sad_ I wanted desperately to be able to do _something_ to change it. I reached my hand across the table, hoping she would take it. Our fingertips brushed, and I awaited her to tell me more, but Jim came to the door for me and I had to leave.

If my goal was to maintain distance, I have done a poor job. I’m not sure what I was thinking, bringing her dinner like that - she just seemed so dejected, I wanted to rectify the situation.

I am hardly deserving of her time, but I cannot help but find myself drawn to her.

She has changed in the months since she began the Inquisition. At first, I treated her with suspicion, watched her because she was a mage with an unknown power – she was quiet, and timid, speaking only when spoken to. As reports of her good deeds came in, the suspicion went – but still, I keep an eye on her. It is impossible not to, I tell myself - her presence in a room commands attention. I’m not sure her presence in a room also commands one to try to take her hand at any opportunity, but I’ll keep fooling myself for now.

She claims not to be Andraste’s chosen, but how can such a woman come to us by happenstance? A woman who is thrown into chaos and takes it in her stride, and somehow puts away all that might haunt her in the sake of duty – it does not take a fool to realise why so many people flock to us in the name of _her_.

It is imperative I put a stop to this stupid idea in my head – I know my admiration goes past the point of professionalism. The cycle continues - I end up overstepping my bounds, then say something awful to compensate. I must remember my place and focus on what is at stake.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Enchanter Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

The mission was successful – the mages have joined the Inquisition as our allies and have agreed to lend the power to stop the Breach.

You may not be happy with this decision, as I’m sure many will not be, but a decision had to made immediately and there was no time to consult the Council.

There is more to the story – but I will save it to speak to you all in person. I’m not sure I could fully explain myself in a letter. I barely believe it all myself, and I lived through it.

I hope you’re well.

Zara


	6. A Formidable Woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 26/01 - And thus concludes the big rewrite! Now it will all be new. Lovely!
> 
> I know we aren't as far ahead in the story, but I believe this was best for the pacing I wanted and I got in some more bits and pieces that I felt were important for Zara's story. I hope you will stick around to read the rest.

_[From Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

The mages are on their way to Haven, allies of the Inquisition. I know many will not approve, but frankly, I don’t care. Let them be angry. Mages have been denied so much, _I_ have been denied so much, that I could not condemn my people to more imprisonment. I have spent so long doing my best to save face. I don’t care anymore I don’t care I don’t care

What I saw in Redcliffe… It was one of the most distressing things to have occurred to me. Dorian and I, when confronting the Tevinter Magister Alexius, were sent _forward in time_. I still struggle to believe even as I write. I witnessed so many horrors. Red lyrium was everywhere, growing out of people –

I am not sure I can bare recall it all. I will no doubt relive it in my nightmares.

I am a different woman to yesterday, now that I have seen what could occur in my absence. Regardless of how I got here, I am integral to the Inquisition, the dark future only proved that. If I am to survive the Breach, I think it only right I stay, to truly see this to the end. Herald or no, the Maker put me on this path for a reason.

* * *

_[An extract from Cullen Rutherford’s journal]_

The Herald’s report from Redcliffe was incredibly troubling. A demon army, the empress assassinated and red lyrium growing out of people – it is imperative we find out who this ‘Elder One’ is as soon as the Breach is closed.

I had little opportunity to speak to Zara in the days following her return from Redcliffe. I wanted to make sure she was alright after the ordeal with Alexius, but outside of the War Council, our paths did not cross. She was busy working with Cassandra to try and accommodate the mages, which was no easy task judging by how much I heard Cassandra yelling at training dummies, but I had hoped she would have sought me out soon after her return. It wasn’t until five days later that I got a chance to speak to her, finally.

Many of the apprentices were eager to continue their teachings, and there was a small group in the lower end of the training grounds practicing spells with each other. I noticed some of the templars looking shifty nearby, so I strode towards them, making my presence known. The last thing we needed was another fight breaking out.

I turned my back on the mages to oversee the soldiers sparring when a heavy weight fell into my back.

“Oh Maker, I’m so – Commander!” It was none other than Zara, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“Are you alright, Herald?”

“Yes, yes, just a few apprentices practicing a force spell.” She turned back momentarily to wave them the okay to keep practicing with each other before attempting to dust herself off. “Some of them have been out of training for a while. They forget their own strength.”

Her hair was a mess, most of it falling out of her braid, her robes were covered in mud and snow, her nose and cheeks were red from Haven’s cold – and I couldn’t help but grin at her, relieved to finally get the chance to talk.

“It’s been a while since we last spoke,” I observed. She frowned.

“Yes, it has. I hope… I hope you aren’t disappointed over my decision with the mages, Cullen. If there was a chance, I would have asked them both but –“

I held up my hand.

“Not at all, Lady Trevelyan. You did well to make a decision. It isn’t what I would have chosen, admittedly – but perhaps that is for the best. You’ve yet to leave us astray so far.” She smiled thankfully, before snapping her head away to berate the apprentices for sending fire across the field. “Andraste, we need more space than this.”

“I know, I know – this isn’t going to be an everyday occurrence, I promise.” She rubbed her face, noticed the dirt on her hand and sneered at it. “I’m not used to teaching outdoors. Maker, I must be a mess.”

“Nonsense,” I lied.

“You aren’t a very good liar, Cullen.”

“Really!” She looked at me sideways and began picking stray twig out of her hair with a blank expression. I couldn’t help but laugh, and soon she began laughing too, loud and cackling, shaking her head at herself.

We calmed down and quickly checked on our respective recruits. I decided to ignore Rylen smirking at me from across the field.

“Teaching suits you, you know,” I said, returning to face her. “It’s one of the first times I’ve seen you so –“ I waved my hand absently, searching for the word. “Yourself.”

“Honestly? It feels wonderful to do this again.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled at me, warm and inviting, and I felt compelled to reach for her hand. Our fingertips brushed before I came to my senses, and I scrambled to cover for myself.

“It’s… It’s good to hear you laughing. It’s the first time since you’ve joined us that I’ve had the fortune.” Her expression… I couldn’t bear to think how much I had embarrassed myself, so I straightened up and bid her farewell without giving her a chance to respond.

I must put an end to this, once and for all, by coming clean. I can’t keep humiliating her like this – I am not worthy to touch her, and she knows it.

 

* * *

_[A crumbled, torn up page, found in the Herald’s quarters, presumably from her journal]_

I have had a strange evening.

Tomorrow, we close the Breach. It has not passed my notice that this may result in my death. Closing rifts have never been a comfortable feeling, and although I have learnt to bear the pain of it now, with all the magic channelled into the mark, it may prove too much for me.

I had wanted to speak to Cullen, to tell him how I feel. I sought him out this evening in his tent, thinking he would be happy to see me – but when I pushed the tent flap aside, he looked almost horrified.

“Herald! I didn’t expect… I was going to send a missive out for you.”

I tried to smile, despite myself. “Well, no need. Was there any reason in particular?”

“Ah, yes, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath before coming around the desk to approach me.

“Lady Trevelyan, I must explain myself. I know I have overstepped my bounds with you and embarrassed you in the process. I have – had, a foolish notion in my head, that you and I…” He shook his head. “I know that it cannot be. But I want you to know, that I think you are a formidable woman, and I won’t overstep again. You have my word.”

He bowed his head, and returned to his desk, not looking at me. I left, feeling… bewildered.

He didn’t say he cared for me, not exactly, but the implication was there. But he doesn’t see himself as good enough for me. Undeserving.

‘ _I know that it cannot be._ ’

And now that is it. I had no say in the matter. No control. He has decided what is, and there is no debate. So, when I returned to my quarters, I cried.

‘ _You should know, I think you are a formidable woman_.’

But not formidable enough to make her own decisions, apparently. I have never been able to make my own decisions. I thought the Inquisition was different, but I have fallen into the same trap again. My life is in the hands of everyone around me, and I must accept it.

Perhaps I will be dead this time tomorrow, having never really decided on my own fate. So be it. Such is the life of a mage.

 

* * *

_A folded-up note left at a Statue of Andraste within Haven’s chantry]_

To Andraste, the Maker, or whomever else might listen;

I have not lived a kind life. I have suffered, and I have endured this suffering. I leave shortly to carry out what I best believe to be your will; you gave me the means to help this world and I shall use it. I will not question your plan for me. I never have.

All I ask is that if today is the day I am to return to the Fade, and face whatever lies beyond, I pray for it to be a place of amity, and freedom, where I might finally know what it means to feel at peace. I have always been faithful to you, believing you would lead me to where I belong, and I can only pray for you to let me have this one selfish request.


	7. The Dawn Will Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you're not a new reader and you've just been notified for this update -   
> I've rewritten this whole thing, and I would 100% recommend rereading it all first so you're up to date on it. This chapter isn't super new stuff, but from the next one on it'll be the rewritten version. 
> 
> I hope you still like my story, and still want to stick around to read it.

_[An extract from Commander Cullen’s journal]_

The Inquisition is lost, somewhere in the Frostbacks. How did we get here? The Breach was closed, we were celebrating, an army came marching, _Samson_ , a strange figure beside him, an archdemon, the strange boy with the hat, Chancellor Roderick, the Herald…

I do not know how to make sense of the past seven hours.

I do not know how to make sense that Zara has not come back.

I tried to sleep, but all I could dream of was our last moments together, and when I awoke I was struggling to breathe. I have many regrets in my life, ~~but she~~

Perhaps if I write it down, the events will start to correspond in my mind.

“And what of your escape?” I asked her. She met my eyes, and I could see that for her, there was no escape. She looked desperate, sad, unravelled. Her eyes shined at me, and I thought back to all the times our eyes have met across the table, across the training field, the small smiles she blessed me with, and I wanted desperately to tell her –

She grabbed the fur of my mantle and crashed her lips to mine. I did not respond at first, I couldn’t, but after a moment I came to my senses, wrapped an arm around her waist and thrust my other hand into her hair, pulling her body to me. Our cheeks became wet, and I could not tell whose tears they were, but I didn’t care. I had dreamt of this for weeks.

It ended far too soon. I felt her hands slide up my chest and ball into my mantle, and she pulled away, and I could do nothing but stare into her eyes, committing the exact shade of green to memory.

This could not be the last time I would see her. I would not accept it.

“Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way…” I didn’t know what I was saying. She smiled at me sweetly, as she had a hundred times before, and smoothed down my mantle where she had been handling it.

“Cullen...” She said.

“Yes?” I replied.

Rylen came shouting from the back of the Chantry, and I turned my head. She took the opportunity to release herself from my grip, and when I turned back, the Chantry doors were slamming closed.

She was gone.

Hours later, I keep touching my own mantle, remembering the feel of her hands on me. I feel something catch on my finger. I look down, and there is a string poking out of it. Odd.

It was the drawstring of a tiny, thin, leather pouch. The letter ‘Z’ is carved into the material. I frown and open the pouch into my hand.

A tiny vial of red liquid glows gently at my touch.

 

_[An extract from Commander Cullen’s journal]_

We found her, collapsed in the snow, lips blue and skin frozen to the touch. I immediately scooped her up and pressed my ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. _Alive_ , I called out to Cassandra. I wasted no time in bringing her back. I think Cassandra was speaking to me as we trudged through the snow, but I didn’t hear. I refused to take my eyes off Zara. _Alive._

I have no idea how she got her phylactery, but thank the Maker she had it. Thank the Maker she had the sense to slide it into the pocket of my mantle.

When I reached the healers’ tent and passed her over, I was shooed away, told not to interfere. I tried to object but Cassandra shook her head, promising to find me when she woke up. When, not if.

And so now I find myself alone, constantly checking that little red vial for the comforting glow. I will give it back to her when she is recovered, but for now, it is a crutch, the only thing keeping me from going insane.

We have lost so much so quickly, and I have no idea where we can go now, but at least we have _her_. My relief is more selfish than the others, I know. Every time I look over to the tent, I think of her eyes before she kissed me.

Our friendship (if I can really call it that) has been turbulent, to say the least. But ~~if~~  when she makes it out of that tent, I will do better. I will be better. That woman has dived head-first into everything thrown at her in the past three months. She has done everything in her power to do what she believes to be right, even if it means facing down her peers. It is more than I can say for my past actions.

I hope I get the chance to tell her how much she has inspired me. There is no question among Josephine, Leliana, Cassandra and I; she is our Inquisitor. She has always been our Inquisitor.

 

_[An extract from Commander Cullen’s journal]_

Recently, after leaving the Templars, I have felt out of touch with my faith. For so much of my life, I thought to serve in the Templar Order was carrying out the Maker’s will. As a boy I idolised the Templar’s in Honnleath’s chantry, seeing them as the utmost example of doing good, helping people. All through training, I held on to that ideal, ready to do my best to protect mages and civilians from the dangers of magic. But it all changed after the Blight. I lost my way. Kinloch Hold – well. I’d rather not remember that time. But it changed me.

Then I was sent to Kirkwall. Thrust into a position I was far too young for, and my peers knew it. Young and angry enough to be easily swayed by Meredith’s madness. What was it I said to Hawke? _Mages are not people like you and me._ What a fool. To the future Champion of Kirkwall, a mage herself, although I didn’t know it. I desperately wanted to serve, but who I was in Kirkwall, what I _did_ , that was not the Maker’s will. I am not sure I will ever be able to truly put that behind me – I am long past forgiveness now.

But the Inquisition was a chance to get away from that life. To remove myself from the chaos, all the wrong-doings, put my skills towards something _good_ , finally. And we have done good work, no doubt, despite my faltering’s from time to time. But I was still questioning myself. My nightmares had been getting worse without lyrium, and I struggled to change Meredith’s teachings, but when we had finally closed the Breach, I felt my faith start to return. Perhaps I _was_ doing the Maker’s will.

Then we were attacked. I can still hear the clash of the metal, the cries of pain, the menacing song of the red templars. A supposed ancient magister, with what could be an archdemon at his disposal, loomed over us. The Herald – Zara, determined for us to escape, even if it meant sacrificing herself. She didn’t even deliberate over the decision. We saw the avalanche – we thought we had seen her _die_.

But she lived.

She had snuck me her phylactery, and we had found her, not far from our camp. She had never given up.

Before, I had questioned if what I am doing is right, is what He had planned for me.

I question no more. It is clear to me, now, after seeing her alive and breathing, that she is some divine intervention. I cannot describe the feeling I had, seeing her emerge from that, in absolute _awe_ of her and all she had done. We kneeled to her and sang, worshipping her, because how could anyone not believe after witnessing what we did?

She moved through the crowd, reaching out to the people. My heart yearned for her to turn in my direction, to reach out to me. Our eyes met, but she merely nodded and carried on her way. I could have wept.

We leave tomorrow, in search for a new home. Zara says she can lead us there.

I don’t know how she knows where we are going, but Maker knows I will follow her anywhere.

 

_[A loose page, folded into Enchanter Trevelyan’s grimoire]_

Most of my belongings are gone, including my old journal, so, for now, I shall make do with keeping my thoughts in my grimoire.

I have evaded death yet again, it seems. Face to face with an old magister, buried under a mountain, and yet still I rise again. I shall trust in the Maker, because there can be no other explanation for what I have survived.

In an hour, we shall march to Skyhold, under Solas’ guidance. My injuries are still great, but we are in far too much danger out here in the middle of the Frostbacks, and it is imperative we find shelter as soon as possible.

With so many eyes on me, I feel obligated to put up a strong front. But internally, I’m a mess.

I have not spoken to Cullen except for out of necessity and have been avoiding Varric and Dorian when I can. Cassandra has been blissfully silent about the matter, but I can tell they all were expecting _something_ when I awoke. I suppose I was expecting something too, but…

Now is not the time for matters of the heart. Hundreds are depending on me, and I will not let them down.

_[An extract from Cassandra Pentaghast’s journal]_

It is done. Zara Trevelyan is our Inquisitor. There could be no other, not truly. Not after what she has done for us and for the people. After witnessing her return to us after Haven, she set a new fire in the hearts of the Inquisition and its people. Leading us to Skyhold cemented the admiration we all felt.

She is not what I expected. But she makes decisions when they need to be made, and she cares deeply about the wellbeing of the people and bringing order to this chaos. More than that, she has become a friend. There is much to her that I wish to know, but I will trust that she will tell me in her own time. It’s strange – she has no hesitation making decisions that will change history, but when it comes to her own feelings, matters of the heart, she struggles to speak her mind.

I saw her and Cullen before she ran out the chantry at Haven. It was _beautiful_. I’d hoped that once she had recovered that she and Cullen would admit to each other how they felt – how could they _not_ , after such a display? Such romance, such passion! But nothing. I don’t think they have even spoken to each other by how often I catch them both wistfully staring at each other.

But I suppose we all must focus on the matter at hand. As I suspected, there is much more going on than we originally thought. A new enemy – Corypheus, a darkspawn claiming to be an ancient magister – has emerged, with an army of red lyrium corrupted templars at his disposal. Varric claims to know someone who has experience dealing with him.

If it’s who I think it is, I’m going to kill that bastard dwarf.


	8. A Symbol of Defiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update to tide you over.

_[From Inquisitor Trevelyan’s journal]_

We have been situated at Skyhold for a week now. Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen have been working tirelessly to get us settled here, and I’ve been doing what I can to keep morale up around the keep.

Transition into this position has been made far easier than I thought with my advisor’s help – even Cullen, who has been the very definition of professional, much to my dismay. I suppose there is no time to dwell on what happened now – I have made my feelings clear, and if he has not wanted to discuss them further, then I must accept it.

Leliana seems to be up to her neck in letters from my family, which I tell her to burn every time. Maker knows what she really does with them – but so long as I’m not asked to deal with their ridiculous requests, I don’t care. Figures, that Lord and Lady Trevelyan only reach out to their daughter when they learn how she can be useful to them.

Josephine and I have been working together trying to utilise what influence we do have to help us establish Skyhold as a working keep, and she has already made impressive strides in getting us invited to the ball at Halamshiral. Obviously, there is a long way to go, but there is no doubting that woman’s dedication. She discovered that in all the chaos going on, she had missed my birthday, and insists on making it up to me, despite my protests.

Otherwise, I have spent my days doing what I can to aid the healers. I spent one evening with Iron Bull, which led to some useful insight on how my people – how _odd_ it feels to write that – view their place in the Inquisition and me.

This strange group that I have gathered have all sung their praises to me, congratulating me on becoming Inquisitor. Everyone seems to have so much faith in me – I only hope I can prove them right.

Solas tells me that the strange boy in the hat – Cole, he calls himself – is a spirit of some kind. Vivienne and Cassandra were adamant that I should send him away, but he is one of the only reasons we had a chance in Haven. I decided to keep him on, which he seemed pleased to hear. He seems to possess some strange talents, including disappearing and reappearing at will, reading people’s minds, and making people forget him entirely. It does result in some… odd occurrences, but he is trying to help. Maker knows we need more people like that around.

I will need to discuss some boundaries with him, however. This morning, I was undressed, observing myself in the mirror. I turned to look at my back and began tracing the ‘A’ with my finger, as I have done so many times, contemplating my scars. He popped into existence, scaring the life out of me and leaving me scrambling to cover myself.

“Cole! You can’t just appear in someone’s quarters like that!”

 “You were hurting,” he said flatly. His eyes glossed over. “Cold, calculated, he carves a threat into the skin. Branded with the fear of the brand.”

“Cole,” I pleaded.

 “You promised. A prayer, a plea, _I will get through this_.” He cocked his head at me. “Your promise is fulfilled. He didn’t get what he wanted. You can let go now.

“Please get out.”

“I didn’t help. I can try again – “

“Get out!” I think I threw a book at him. He disappeared.

I know what he is talking about of course. _He didn’t get what he wanted_.

Didn’t he?

 

* * *

[ _An extract from Cullen Rutherford’s journal]_

Zara has been nothing but professional. I haven’t been feeling myself – no doubt the stress of the last week or so hasn’t helped – and I find that she is creeping into my dreams, although the exact memory of it fades when I awake. I’m not sure what I expected, or if I even expected anything at all. I suppose it makes sense. I had all but admitted I had cared for her. In what she thought to be her last moments, perhaps she figured it would bring me some peace. She never expected to live through it, and now –

Maker, I feel sick even writing it. The memory of those hours where we all thought she was lost, the desperation when I realised she had given me her phylactery, that she was _alive_ …

I will return it to her, of course – but it is not a conversation I wish to have in the open, and I feel somewhat averse to visiting her temporary quarters when I am so unsure of our boundaries. It gave me comfort on the way to Skyhold, but it is inappropriate and irresponsible to hold onto it. I’m amazed she had it in the first place – I would have thought that any mage who recovered their phylactery would have destroyed it as soon as possible. Then again, if she had…

I can’t quite shake the fear from that day it seems. She came to speak to me earlier, after doing her rounds with the healers – trying to keep herself busy, she told us at the Council – to ask how preparations were going for the troops. I gave her my report; guard rotations have been established, the armoury is underway, and troops have been established temporary quarters whilst the barracks is built. She asked how many were lost at Haven, and I told her how morale has improved since she took on her role as Inquisitor.

“Everyone has so much faith in my leadership. It’s not a feeling I’m used to.”

“We needed a leader, and you have proven yourself,” I assured her.

“Thank you, Cullen.” I smiled at her, and she averted her gaze before continuing. “Our escape from Haven… It was close. I’m relieved that you- that _so many_ , made it out.”

“As am I.” She smiled sadly back at me and turned to leave, but I had to say _something_.

“You stayed behind, you could have…” I shook my head, not wanting to remind myself of it again. “I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.”

We shared a look then – like how she looked at me in Haven when we both understood she would likely not be coming back.

But this time, she did not throw her arms around my neck, or even take my hand, because she is a sensible woman and the Inquisitor, and I must stop these ridiculous feelings and do my job.

 

* * *

_[From Inquisitor Trevelyan’s journal]_

Finally, I can feel useful again! I am happy at Skyhold, but after my injuries from Haven, I was being treated like a porcelain doll, and my advisors were reluctant to send me out into the field. But once Hawke came and gave me her information on Corypheus, they couldn’t deny that it was necessary to follow up with her contact as soon as possible.

“Are you really going to take Cassandra _and_ Varric to Crestwood? Isn’t she going to kill him?” Leliana smirked.

“She’s already tried. I caught her throwing a chair at him in the armoury.” I shrugged. “I spoke to them both about it. I think it’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” She nodded, grabbing her reports to leave. “Scout Harding will meet you there – from her last report, she isn’t too far out now.”

“Thank you Leliana. I’ll get everyone ready to leave tomorrow morning,”

“Oh! There was also another letter from your family, mentioning- “

“Burn it, Leliana.”

“Are you sure? It could- “

“Burn. It.” I narrowed my gaze. She nodded in understanding, taking her leave. I turned to Josephine and Cullen. “Anything else, you two?”

Cullen shook his head, looking uncomfortable to be around me again. Josephine perked up, however.

“Actually, Inquisitor…” She fumbled about, trying to pick something up from under the table without dropping her tablet. I can’t remember a time I’ve seen her without it.

She popped up again, smiling ear-to-ear, holding a small box. I cocked my head at her.

“What’s this?”

“It’s very late, but with all the fuss going on, I just didn’t have the time – I hope you’ll still accept it…” She passed it to me across the war table. “You used to wear a ring, in Haven – I assume given to you from the Circle?”

“I did. It is given to a mage after she passes her harrowing. I didn’t have it on when it all started.”

Josephine nodded sympathetically. “I thought you could do with a replacement – one that better suits your status.” She ushered for me to open it.

My previous ring had been a simple pewter band, lost somewhere in the battle at Haven. A lot of mages I’ve seen have discarded their Harrowing rings, but I kept mine. I understand that to many, it would just be a symbol of the horrors they may have faced – but to me, it was a symbol of my defiance, the only defiance I could show publicly. Galerius could glare at it all he liked, wearing it gave me the only feeling of power I could get – wearing that ring meant I was Harrowed, and it would be breaking Chantry laws to make me Tranquil. He couldn’t hold that threat over me any longer. It was no thing of beauty, but by the time the Circle’s disbanded, I’d grown so attached to that ring that I couldn’t bear to get rid of it.

What Josephine had gifted me, however, took my breath away. It was a beautiful golden band, with a small intricate floral pattern carved into the metal. The centre of the flowers contained a tiny ruby, and my name had been engraved along the inner band. It might be the most beautiful item anyone had given to me.

“Happy birthday, Inquisitor.” I hadn’t noticed she had come around the table to stand next to me.

“Josephine… This is beautiful… I didn’t- I had no idea.” I looked up and to her surprise gave her a big, squeezing hug.

“It is nothing, Inquisitor! I hope you like it!”

I thanked her again before she left and started to gather my things. Cullen cleared his throat, startling me.

“Sorry, Commander. I didn’t realise you were still here.”

“It… was your nameday? I had no idea, I would have prepared…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Technically it was about a week and a half ago. I didn’t really remember myself, with everything going on.”

“Well, happy birthday,” he said, bowing his head. “I actually had something I’d like to speak with you about before you leave for Crestwood, if you have the time.”

“I need to meet with Mother Giselle quickly, but I can come by your office in an hour or so?”

He nodded in agreement and left without another word.

That was two hours ago, and I have not met him yet. I will, of course, but we have seldom been alone together since Haven, and I’m nervous at what he has to say. I’m sure it is just something work-related – but maybe I’ll pop over to Dorian first. And discuss how to deal with this letter from his father. In detail.


	9. Secrets Shared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for kudos, hits and bookmarks. It keeps me going.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit, 22/02: Small changes to the final scene.

_[From Cullen Rutherford’s journal]_

The Inquisitor came by a few hours after the meeting – she apologised profusely for her lateness, but to be honest I’d been so involved with work I hadn’t noticed the hour. I stood up when she arrived, clasping my hands behind my back, hoping she would not react poorly.

“As leader of the Inquisition, you… There is something I must tell you.”

“Whatever it is, I’m willing to listen.” The smile on her face dropped, traded for a concerned expression.

“Right. Thank you.” I grabbed the box on my desk, opening it to reveal my old lyrium philter. “Lyrium grants templars their abilities, but it controls us as well. Those that are cut off suffer. Some go mad, others die. We have secured a reliable source for the templars here, but I… No longer take it.”

“You stopped?”

“When I joined the Inquisition. It’s been months now.”

“Cullen, if this could _kill you_ – “

“It hasn’t yet. After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn’t. I will not be bound to the Order, or that life, any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it.” I straightened up, trying to still look professional while sharing something very personal. “I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I’ve asked Cassandra to watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty.”

“Are you in pain?” She asked, barely more than a whisper.

“I can endure it,” I breathed.

“Thank you for telling me, Commander. I respect what you’re doing.” She looked at the floor for a moment, but then gazed up at me, eyes large and green and shining. “I think this is very brave of you, Cullen.”

“I – thank you, Inquisitor.” She turned to leave, but I remembered the other reason I had called her to my office. “Inquisitor! Forgive me, but I also wanted to return your phylactery…”

“Oh! Of course.” She reached out her hand, and I passed the pouch to her, thinking about asking her where she found it. “You must have wondered how I got it.”

“…Yes, actually.”

She smiled sadly. “For all the horrors at Ostwick, I had one friend. Reagan. We lost each other when the Circle’s disbanded… but before the Conclave, he tracked me down. I didn’t understand _how_ , until he gave this to me.”

“Where is he now?” Hearing her speak of him so tentatively… something in me wrenched.

“I don’t know. He said he wasn’t attending the Conclave but said nothing else of his plans. I don’t know why I kept it…”

“To be honest, I wondered that myself. But I am grateful that you did, or…” I stopped myself. “What are you going to do with it now?”

She clenched her teeth, staring at the vial. Her face fell, becoming expressionless. She breathed in hard, squeezing her hand over it, and a light flashed from inside her palm. I heard the glass break, and thick red liquid trickled down from her fist. Opening her palm once more, she revealed the broken shards, some of which had embedded into her skin.

My expression must have been horrified, as when she looked up, she became very apologetic.

“Sorry, Cullen. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Then she left, to take care of it elsewhere.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We have reached the first outpost on our way to Crestwood. We are making good time and should reach Scout Harding within the week.

Two things. Firstly, thank you for telling me about your decision not to take lyrium. I understand that this is an incredibly personal part of yourself and I am glad that you felt you could share it with me, even if on professional terms. I’ve seen what the long-term effects of lyrium can be, and what those cut off from it suffer through, and may I reiterate that what you are doing is incredibly brave. I sympathise with wanting to leave the Circle behind – it is not something I have managed to achieve, myself. Please feel free to speak with me regarding any concerns you have, and we can work through them together.

Secondly, thank you for returning my phylactery, and I’m sorry for how I acted. Losing composure like that is very rare for me, and I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.

Yours sincerely,

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Zara,

You certainly surprised me, but you haven’t done anything to change my opinion of you. If you need to speak to me about anything – as a friend, I mean, not a templar – then please feel free to do so. You were courteous as anything when I shared myself with you – I would be pleased to return the gesture.

Stay safe.

Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

I considered giving an abbreviated version, but I feel compelled to give you the truth in its entirety. Perhaps it will give me comfort to share this with a friend, after all.

Reagan, the templar who gave my phylactery to me in the first place, was transferred to Ostwick when I was fourteen. For various reasons, I was often the target of cruelty from Ostwick’s Knight-Commander, Galerius. A particularly awful incident happened around a year later, and to cut a long story short, I have Reagan to thank for still being alive today. For the rest of my time as an apprentice, he did his best to keep me safe from the worst of Galerius’ anger, acting much as a mentor. He would teach meditative tactics to keep oneself calm and composed and used to warn me when Galerius was feeling particularly disagreeable. Eventually, he was promoted to Knight-Captain, and for the rest of my time in the Circle, there was always tension between them – I’m sure you can imagine the scenario.

Galerius was particularly angered when I passed my Harrowing, and Reagan was worried for me, so he began teaching me how to use weapons. He showed me how to use daggers, and swords, and even tried me with a shield – only once, it didn’t go well – because he thought Galerius might really lose it one day, and I needed to be able to defend myself without magic. We did this for years, weekly training in secret, and grew very fond of each other. My parents wanted nothing of me after my magic came, and Reagan became a parental figure in their place.

When the Circle’s disbanded, I thought we would travel together, but he left with a few other templars without much of a word. I travelled alone for months until I received word of the Conclave and began to head to Ferelden. He found me not far from the Waking Coast and gave a very heartfelt speech about why he left, and then gave me my phylactery, to do with as I pleased. He looked ill and dishevelled at the time and worrying for him, I asked him to come to the Conclave with me. He declined, saying I didn’t need him. I suppose it is for the best – he would likely be dead now if he had.

I was going to destroy my phylactery, but instead I held on to it. I suppose, in some strangely sentimental way, it was my last connection to him. When you handed it to me, the memory of that day swept over me, and suddenly I felt very angry. I hadn’t felt that sort of anger in a long time, and I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I just – smashed the glass. I understand that seeing me in that state could be quite frightening, and I’m sorry that I lost control.

Sincerely,

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Zara,

I will admit that your anger caught me off-guard, but I would never judge you for it. I appreciate you telling me this story – it is far more than I deserve.

We both have our reasons for leaving our respective lives behind, and I believe it is perfectly normal, and in fact expected, to be angry at the events that have happened to us. I wish I could offer more advice, but I’m afraid I am equally unaware of how best to move on. I think, at least for now, it is enough that we try.

Although, perhaps next time you feel like smashing a glass in your own hand, may I suggest a wall instead?

There are worrying reports from Harding regarding Crestwood. Be safe.

Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We reached Crestwood today and encountered several Wardens looking for Hawke’s contact. The village is under siege from the undead, which I believe to be originating from a large rift in the lake. According to the mayor, the controls for the dam are in a nearby keep, Caer Bronach, which has been taking over by bandits. We attack the keep tomorrow morning. I will keep you updated on our progress.

Throwing it at a wall would have gotten blood all over your nice new office. How are the renovations coming along?

Sincerely,

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

 Cullen,

We have taken over Caer Bronach, and I believe it may be a useful holding for the Inquisition. I’ve sent over the details if you wish to explore this option further.

The dam controls were not damaged, as the mayor said they were, which struck me as odd. He was very reluctant for us to enter the keep in the first place, I remember. I may question him about this when we return to Crestwood. In the meantime, we set off to tackle the large rift today. The sight of Old Crestwood is unsettling, to say the least. The Blight still haunts these parts and its people.

Hawke is very chatty. And loud. I think she finds me incredibly academic and dull, which doesn’t stop her from offering me an ale at camp ever night. Varric mentioned once that you and Hawke used to speak occasionally – did you speak to her at Skyhold?

This paper is getting incredibly damp, so I shall end this letter here. I hope you are well.

Sincerely,

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Zara,

I’ve sent supplies over with some of Leliana’s people to manage Caer Bronach. You are right – it is certainly an advantageous position for the Inquisition, and Leliana is particularly pleased with the opportunities it presents.

Renovations at Skyhold are coming along well – the bridge between the rotunda and my office is now built, which allows me to further avoid the nobles in the courtyard. I believe Josephine mentioned that your permanent quarters are being built now and should be finished by the time you return. The soldiers are especially pleased about having a functional tavern.

If by ‘used to speak’, you mean ‘Hawke used to come to the Gallows specifically to mock you’, then I suppose we spoke quite often. Hawke and I couldn’t have been friends, not with how I was back then. I stood by her, in the end – but I should have listened to her sooner. She tried many times to get me to see the error of my ways. I’m sure she would have a few choice words, and so admittedly I was largely avoiding her when she was at Skyhold.

And for the record, I’m not sure anyone could find you dull. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met.

Take care,

Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We’ve met with Hawke’s contact – none other than Alistair Theirin! Even I have heard of how he and the Hero of Ferelden conquered the Blight. He is even more handsome than the stories make out, would you believe? Aurora is a lucky woman.

As for Hawke, I may join you in avoiding her. She has been a relentless tease this entire journey, but thanks to Bull has now heard about that dreadful night in Haven’s tavern and is even worse.

On a serious note, whatever mistakes you made during that time, you are working to make up for them now. Regardless of what she says, I’m sure she would agree that it is an honourable move.

Sincerely,

Zara

 

 

* * *

[ _An extract from Cassandra Pentaghast’s journal]_

The journey to Crestwood has been a trying one. I am still furious with Varric, but I promised Zara I would do my best not to kill him. He spends most of his time with Hawke, now that we have reached Crestwood, which makes it much easier to avoid him.

I spend most evenings in camp with Zara, and we have grown much closer. I learn more about her each day, and it is hard to remember the times when she would refuse to speak to us.

“Cassandra, would you possibly be willing to train me in swordsmanship? When we return to Skyhold, I mean.”

I was shocked.

“You want to learn how to handle a sword? You remember you are a mage, yes? Don’t tell me you want to start leaping onto pride demons again.” She waved at me dismissively.

“Yes, I know I’m a mage. I used to train rather often, I’ll have you know. I want a refresher.”

“Why?” I really did not want her to break her ribs again.

“Watching Vivienne in battle – I think I would like to study Knight Enchanters. I’ve wanted to for the longest time, and now I might finally have the opportunity…”

I thought for a second, smiling.

“You know, I’m sure Leliana could find someone to mentor you – not just someone, but one of the _best_.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened, and I nodded. She sat back in her seat, satisfied. She started sifting through her correspondence again and smiled at the paper. I decided to test the waters.

“From Cullen?” I asked casually.

“Yes, he mentioned… Oh, no. No. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Good. Then let’s not talk about it.” I laughed at her stubbornness and decided a direct approach was better suited.

“Are you and Cullen courting?”

“Courting?!”

“At Haven, I must admit we saw… It was incredibly _romantic_! I thought that now things are more settled at Skyhold, you must have discussed the occasion.”

She sighed, putting her letters to one side. “Honestly, Cassandra, we’ve barely discussed _anything_ since Haven. He told me about his decision…” she looked to me then. I nodded in understanding. “And I thought… I don’t know. I think I’ve just made him uncomfortable.”

I scoffed. “His longing stares certainly don’t say _uncomfortable_ to me.”

“Cassandra, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve barely even had _friends_ before this, let alone anything more.”

“You never had a lover?” I was surprised. She was a beautiful woman.

“I had a dalliance or two when I was young… Eventually, it became too dangerous. I haven’t even considered anyone in such a way for years.” She sighed. “Do you remember Enchanter Ellendra?”

“The woman from the Hinterlands? Yes, I do.”

“Do you remember the letter we had to deliver her? _The madness of your side and mine was too great a gap_ ,” her eyes closed for a moment. “It is a strange new world we live in, Cassandra, but I question if it is one where a templar and a mage can be together.”

“Zara…”

“Back in the Hinterlands, when we faced the rogue templars, there was a man there who had been at Ostwick. He was fresh out of training when I first came to the Circle, used to sneak me treats from the kitchen when I would cry for my parents. I had to cut him down.”

She stared blankly at her hands.

“I trained for years with Reagan. He was my one solace in that hell. And he left like it was nothing.”

I grabbed her hand then, gave it a squeeze. She came back to the present, with a pleading look.

“Zara, my friend, I have lost much in my life. The world is not a kind place, I know, but we must take our happiness where we can. I know Cullen, and I know you, or I like to think so,” I paused, and she smiled. “If you feel _something_ for each other, I think you owe it yourselves to try.”

“Thank you, Cassandra. I will… consider it.”

I gave her a quick hug, and we sat in a comfortable silence. I was happily reading until she asked a very terrible question.

“Can I ask… What is that book, Cassandra?”

 

* * *

[ _A mission report from Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

** Mission Objectives **

Close rift in Crestwood’s lake: Achieved.

Contact Warden: Achieved

Deal with bandits in Caer Bronach: Achieved

 

** Report **

Cleared out all bandits and bodies have been disposed of. Caer Bronach is clear and ready for Inquisition troops

Accessed the large rift using the damn controls in Caer Bronach. Mayor claimed they were damaged by Darkspawn. They were not. On searching through Old Crestwood, we discovered he was responsible for the flood, and when we returned to his home he had disappeared. I would like it if the Inquisition could search for him, so he can be brought to justice.

Rift closed, weather cleared up. Dragon killed. Warden Alistair has provided us with extensive information on Corypheus and the Grey Wardens. We are on our way back to Skyhold now, and he will present his findings to the War Council.

Resupplying in the Hinterlands. Dorian and I have some business to attend to in Redcliffe, and the rest of the party will continue the journey to Skyhold.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Zara,

Don’t think that I missed the ‘dragon killed’ in your latest mission report. I’m sure I have said on multiple occasions not to antagonise dragons.

Congratulations on a successful mission, and please be safe.

Cullen

 

* * *

[ _A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

Oops. Thought I was being clever hiding that between all the important parts.

If it’s any consolidation it has been a fantastic morale booster, especially for Iron Bull. While we are in the Hinterlands, he is quite keen to investigate the Ferelden Frostback. There is no point protesting because by the time I receive your letter back I will probably have already killed it.

As mentioned in my report, I’ll be arriving a day or two after the rest of the party. I promised Dorian I would accompany him with some personal matters.

I look forward to seeing you,

Zara

 

* * *

_[From Cullen Rutherford’s journal]_

Zara was right – by the time the letter had been delivered, news had spread of _another_ dragon killing. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had been writing to me just before she went out to kill it.

The rest of the party returned yesterday, and they must have had a drink to celebrate, as just when I was about to head up for the night, Hawke came bursting through the door.

“Cullen Rutherford.” She wobbled slightly as she entered and kicked the door behind her. I sighed, and sat back down at my desk, bracing myself for whatever she was about to do.

“Hawke.” She nodded at me with a smug smile and began meandering around my office. I pretending to read one of the reports on my desk as an excuse to ignore her.

“These are some interesting accommodations, aren’t they?” She was assessing me, testing my patience. “Why are you here?”

“This is my office, Hawke.”

“No. I mean, why are _you_ here?” She snatched the report out of my hand. “ _How_? Knight-Captain Cullen, Commander of the _mage_ Inquisitor’s forces? I thought Varric was joking!”

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. My hesitation must have angered her as she slapped both hands on my desk, leering over it.

I knew what she meant, but I didn’t want to answer. Hawke had seen the worst of me – explaining that I was trying to make amends would be… difficult.

“You aren’t going to say anything?” At this distance I could smell the ale on her breath.

“No. You’re drunk.”

“Why did you let me go?”

I blinked. “Wha- “

“At the end. After Meredith. You let us all go.“ She frowned, anger giving way to genuine curiosity.

“After everything you had done for Kirkwall, it was the least I could do.”

“You were part of the problem,” she said flatly.

“I know.”

“Being here doesn’t change what you did.”

 “I know.”

 “You authorised making _Harrowed_ _mages_ Tr-

“I know, Hawke.” I snapped. I rubbed my face as she stared at me, silently demanding an explanation.

“I can’t change what I’ve done, I know that,” I began. “I let fear and anger take hold of me, and I caused suffering because of it. I made too many mistakes to count. It may mean nothing, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. I want to be better, and if I must spend the rest of my life trying to atone, then so be it.”

She said nothing for a moment, narrowing her eyes at me, but ultimately, she nodded. A slow smile creeped over her face.

“Your Inquisitor’s a mage. What do you think of her?”

“She isn’t _my_ –“ I sighed. “She has worked endlessly in the time she has been here, even before she was Inquisitor – she has proved herself to be more than worthy of the title and continues to do so. She’s a lovely woman.”

“A lovely woman?”

“Hawke, please just-“

“You’re sweet on her.” I really wanted her to go away. This was not a conversation I was willing to have with Hawke, of all people.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She smirked, standing up straight – or trying to, at least.

“Varric’s right. You’ve softened up.” She turned and sauntered over to the door. “Keep at it, Curly. Maybe for once you can do the right thing.”

And then she left.

I have no idea what to make of any of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you liking this? I'd love some feedback.
> 
> Edit 22/02


	10. The Thought Of You

_[From Inquisitor Trevelyan’s journal]_

Dorian and I returned from Redcliffe yesterday morning, parting ways at the gate. I offered my company, but truthfully, I think he may just need a few hours alone and a hefty bottle of wine. Whatever was discussed between him and his father left him quiet for most of the journey back to Skyhold. I hope in time he finds peace with it.

The War Council followed shortly after I arrived, with my advisors eager to hear Alistair’s information. We made plans for our excursion to the Western Approach to investigate further, and I overheard Leliana fussing over Cullen. He dismissed her attention, claiming it was just a headache, but I also noticed he seemed to be in pain during the meeting.

I remember something similar happening from Haven, and so this morning I decided to dedicate my time planting some medicinal herbs in the garden. He might not be willing to ask for my help, but I am going to offer it, regardless. Elfroot, royal elfroot, embrium – anything useful we had stocks of, I planted it. By the time I return from the Approach, they might have bloomed enough to be used.

I was finishing up when I heard Dorian laughing across the garden, and I searched for the origin of the sound, wanting to know what was making him so cheerful after such a dreadful past few days. I found him sitting with Cullen, playing chess, and they both appeared to be in high spirits. I approached, leaning against the gazebo for support.

Cullen noticed me first, starting to get up until Dorian teased him.

“I hope you two are playing nice,” I quipped.

“I’m _always_ nice,” Dorian smirked, much more like his usual self. “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

I glanced at the board, and then at Cullen, who was looking very self-satisfied.

“Really? Because I just won,” he placed his winning piece on the board, “and I feel _fine_.” He stretched out, clearly proud of himself.

“Don’t get smug. They’ll be no living with you.” Dorian folded his arms in defeat, rose from his chair and left us both to the garden.

“I should return to my duties as well… Unless you would care for a game?” Cullen gestured to the board, giving me a warm smile.

How could I say no? “Prepare the board, Commander.”

We sat together, and for the first time since Haven, there wasn’t a moment of uncomfortableness. It was much like when we used to speak together during training, but this time, it wasn’t all tactics and swords – he spoke of his family, his sisters, where he grew up. He asked me about mine, and for once I didn’t mind talking about my life before magic. The scar on his lip would twitch when he smiled, and he had a stuck-up grin every time he beat me – ‘just like your sister’, I told him.

Every now and then a messenger would come for us with something to sign off or check over, but otherwise, we were left undisturbed. Our fingertips brushed on occasion, and our gazes would sometimes linger for longer than normal. We spoke for a long time, and for one afternoon, there were no Circles, no Inquisition, just a man and a woman enjoying one another's company.

“This may be the longest time we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition or related matters – to be honest, I appreciate the distraction,” he said. I smiled back at him.

“We should spend more time together.”

“I would like that,” he said.

“Me too,” I replied.

“You said that…” he uttered.

I blushed, and we finished our last game with grins on our faces.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We have been travelling for around three weeks, and despite the harsh conditions I believe we are still on schedule.

We’ve encountered a few rifts here and there, but otherwise, the journey has been rather quiet. You would think this good news, but sadly it lends more time for my team to annoy the life out of one another. The next time I see a rift I may just crawl into it, if only to escape the incessant complaining. Varric is the worst.

I hope you are well. I’ve considered your last report and I agree – a training ring would be greatly beneficial to the main grounds, especially outside the tavern. If that ruined building by the Quartermaster’s office could also be refurbished into an infirmary, then all the better.

Yours,

Zara

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Inquisitor,

I am very glad to hear of your mostly safe journey, although I do sympathise with your grievances. In the short time I have spent with Varric, he has spent most of it complaining, and half of those complaints are directed towards the serious expression of my face.

I’ve passed on the request, and I’m told by Josephine that preparations will begin immediately. I dare say that Skyhold may be almost unrecognisable on your return – her plans for the main hall sound very grand indeed.

I realise now that I was so preoccupied with our game of chess that I never got around to asking you what exactly you had planted in the garden. They all seem to be sprouting nicely. The next time we can play chess together, I think we will be surrounded by enough leaves and flowers to drown out the sounds of any annoying messengers.

Be safe,

Cullen

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

We’ve reached the desert, finally. The Western Approach is a harsh region, and I am always surprised by the contrast between the heat of the day and the cold of the night. Alistair has scouted ahead, and we are due to meet him at some ruins tomorrow.

There is a holding nearby, Griffon Wing Keep, which Harding believes is occupied by the Venatori. In the interest of the Inquisition, I believe it is best if I make plans to clear it out. As the journey here is long and arduous, I would advise you to consider if you would like to take advantage of this posting and who should take command. They will take a while to arrive, as well as the supplies, and I have confidence in my own efficiency to say I will be done long before then.

I’m very pleased to hear of my plants! In truth, they are for you. Many of them, when mixed together in various combinations, prove to be quite beneficial for headaches, fevers and other such ailments. I know you suffer from these things, and I thought they could be a comfort when I cannot be there myself. Let me know when they start blooming and I’ll attach my recipes.

The thought of spending a quiet evening in the garden with you keeps me sane. I hope you are well.

Yours,

Zara

* * *

_[An urgent mission report to the Inquisition’s advisors from Enchanter Trevelyan]_

Report

Apologies for lack of formatting, but these needed to reach you all ASAP.

Wardens terrified by the Calling – which we know is caused by Corypheus. Clarel has been convinced by Magister Livius Erimond of Vyrantium (information request, Leli & Josie) to use blood magic to bind Warden Mages to demons. Supposedly, Clarel believes the plan is to use the demon army to march through the Deep Roads and kill the Old Gods before they become Archdemons, thus preventing any further Blights. This ritual, however, binds them instead to Corypheus. Alistair believes the Wardens and Venatori to be based at Adamant Fortress and are scouting the area to confirm so. Expect their reports in the coming days.

This is an urgent matter and must take priority. I worry that a large-scale assault will be needed, but I will await further information. Once my business in the Western Approach is concluded, I will return to Skyhold with haste.

 

* * *

_[A letter from Commander Cullen to Inquisitor Trevelyan]_

Inquisitor,

Harding has informed us of your success with Griffon Wing Keep. I apologise for the lateness in my response, but as you know, the journey is treacherous, and she encourages messengers to be sent sparingly. Captain Rylen is on his way to take command of Griffon Wing Keep – you may remember Leliana referring to him as ‘the blunt one’. He lacks tact but holds a lot of respect among troops, and I believe he has the resilience to do the position justice. He has largely acted as my second in command here and became a trusted friend to me after Kirkwall’s chantry fell. If an assault on Adamant is needed, he will provide great assistance in preparations.

Your report has troubled us all, but we have not yet received further word from Hawke & Alistair, so cannot begin to come up with any tangible plans yet. Know that we all stand ready to aid, Inquisitor.

And now that I have concluded the business half of this letter, let me thank you for the thoughtfulness you have shown me. I am not always deserving of it, but I appreciate it all the same. Adan tells me the elfroot is ready for use, so I suppose you may send recipes my way.

I await the chance to be in your company again, if for nothing else than an equal chess partner. Leliana cheats too much for it to be any real challenge.

Be safe,

Cullen

 

* * *

_[A letter from Inquisitor Trevelyan to Commander Cullen]_

Cullen,

I write this letter with a large smile on my face, as this is our last night in the Western Approach. There is more business to conduct here, but I suspect we will be returning in the coming months to complete it. For now, the most pressing threats have been dealt with, and I trust Captain Rylen to keep a safe eye on any that remain.

You made a good choice in your appointment – he seems to have taken on the position here with relative ease and is up for the challenge that the region presents. Although I must say I’ve noticed he is a terrible flirt. I’ve never seen Cassandra roll her eyes so much when talking to someone who isn’t Varric, who Rylen also took a chance at. I think he mentioned something about investigating Varric’s ‘deep roads’, but I had to walk away from the conversation for obvious reasons.

I had the unfortunate burden of needing to remind him that I am, in fact, his boss, when he started mentioning you far too often. He had passed me a letter with your seal – it was your most recent one, incidentally – and had a far too smug expression. I made the mistake of asking him what exactly he was smiling about, to which he held his hands up in defence.

“Oh, nothing, Inquisitor! Just that I believe it is a letter from Commander Cullen, your Grace.”

“I can see that, Captain. Thank you for your observational skills.” I began to open it, and he was still hovering around. I paused, waiting to see if he would leave, and when I looked up, he had what I can describe as nothing other than an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Is there a reason you are staring at me, Captain Rylen?”

“I was merely wishing to guess what kind of honeyed words the Commander left in his letter. You certainly bring out a more _cheerful_ side of him, Your Worship,” he said. I eyed him suspiciously and decided to leave to read my letter in peace. He started saying something else, but then he began to scream. Something about ice in his clothes? I can’t possibly imagine what he was talking about. We’re in the desert, after all.

I look forward to seeing you. Shall we arrange for another game?

Yours,

Zara

P.S. I’ve attached instructions of how to mix the elfroot into a tea. Helps with pain relief.

* * *

_[From Commander Cullen’s journal]_

When I first read of Zara’s impending arrival this morning, I was elated. It has been over two months since I last saw her, and she was gone for two months before that. In the privacy of this journal I can admit that I miss her terribly, and I treasure each letter she writes me as the most valuable gifts someone could give me, but when I am with her, in person, it is not so easy to admit. In the months since we have been at Skyhold, I’ve realised that there is a very real possibility that these feelings I keep may be returned, and yet still I hesitate to voice them.

Hawke’s visit to my office still relays in my mind. Has she told Zara of all the atrocities of my past? Will she? Would Zara change her mind if she knew who I truly was, who I am still struggling not to be? I feel sick to think of it. I don’t wish for her to know that awful side of me, but doesn’t she deserve to know the whole truth?

I have been waking up feeling awful more than not, and each time I feel worse than before. I am sceptical if these herbs will do any good, but I am willing to try if only to grant temporary release. I would be ashamed for her to see me in such a state.

And now, after thinking of this all day, when I read of her arrival I am filled with dread. What if she arrives when I am at my worst, she sees what I have become, and she stops writing sweet letters and making a mess all over the garden and smiling at me over the chess table? There is nothing concrete between us, and yet still I lament the possibility as a great loss.

My dreams are getting worse. I must speak with Cassandra, soon.

 

* * *

_[From Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

Cold seeps through my bones. My back is sore, a hot searing pain. I weep silently, breathing heavily through hot tears. The door to my cell opens and in walks a templar. I recognise this man, but I cannot remember his name.

“Maker,” he whispers, astonished by my state. He kneels beside me, but I have no energy to react. He gently turns me on my side, and I stare at him with fright. I see him clearly now. His features are sharp, but his eyes are kind. “You can’t heal yourself.” It isn’t a question. He purses his lips and begins fumbling with his pouch.

He cradles my head, lifting it towards a bottle of red liquid. It smells of elfroot and embrium, and I know this is meant to help. I consume half the bottle before he takes it away. “Tell no one,” he tells me, and I blink.

I am outside, looking out over the cliffs onto the sea. The crashing of waves keeps me grounded. I am older now, stronger, but I am so painfully alone. I allow myself a single tear before turning away. Be nothing, I tell myself. Nothing is safe.

I walk along these cliffs for miles, searching the horizon for the ship that will take me across the sea. I shall not see this land for a long time, I think.

A man calls my name, gruff but familiar. I snap my head to the sound. It can’t be, I think – but it is! It is! He has returned to me. He wears a different armour and his beard is longer and greyer than I remember, but there is no mistaking his eyes. I run to him, and I let my tears run too. I am so painfully alone.

He holds me, pats my head. Your beard has grown, I tell him. So has your hair, he says. Is that a new shield? I ask. He smiles through it all. _Stay with me_ , I beg. _I cannot be alone again_.

He throws me to the ground, laughing, snarling. I stare in confusion, hurt. This isn’t what happened.

“Might not be a templar shield, but it’s a templar holding it.” I shake my head, searching his eyes. Reagan never said this to me.

I blink, and the scene returns to normal, how it happened in my memory. He holds my chin in his hands. “I’m sorry my girl,” he says, “but I have to go.”

I am so painfully alone.

I awake, crying to a silent tent.

 

 


	11. I've Been A Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short piece because it wanted to be on its own.

_[From Commander Cullen’s journal]_

I kneel with my head in my hands. Bodies are scattered around the room. Purple energy surrounds me, demanding me to watch blood seep into stone. The blood of the templars, my friends, cut down before me. Yet I remain.

I recite the Chant to myself, a desperate string of nonsense to keep me from drowning in my grief.  A delicate hand reaches out to touch my face and I shirk away from their touch.

“Cullen,” she whispers. I look up, and there she is as always, bright blue eyes shining at me. Her blonde hair is falling over her face, and I long to reach out and tuck it behind her hair.

“Raven?” Her robes are pristine white. She is so beautiful, and she does not belong in a terrible place like this. “Why are you here? They’ll kill you!”

“I don’t fear them,” she tells me calmly. “I came here for you. Escape with me, Cullen. Let us be together.”

I look at her, so regal. This is everything I have wanted. But something isn’t right

“No,” I tell her. “I can’t.”

For a moment, her kind face is a snarl, and her eyes are black. But as quickly as it comes, it is gone, and she tilts her head at me, passing through the purple barrier to sit in front of me. She takes my hands in hers, gentle and tender.

“Why not? Isn’t this what we both want? Isn’t this what _you_ want, my darling?”

I look at her, and I am desperate to say yes, desperate to get away from the horrors I have seen today.

“No,” I tell her. “Begone!”

The demon snarls once more and reels its arm back to strike me, but I awake before I feel the weight of the blow.

It was before dawn when I awoke, but I got up anyway, giving up on sleep. I eyed the herbs Zara gave me, but I decided against taking them. Today wasn’t a terrible day. I could manage.

She returned yesterday morning and spent the entire day running around the keep attending to Inquisition business. We have yet to hear from Alistair and Hawke, but Josephine had more than enough work for her that I did not get to spend time with her as I hoped. She sent me a missive saying she would drop in today if she could, but I am not hopeful.

* * *

_[From Enchanter Trevelyan’s journal]_

I’ve been a fool. A stupid, idiotic fool, and I could not be happier.

I arrive at Skyhold three days ago, and I’ve had no time to myself until last night. As soon as my last meeting with Josephine was done, I made my way to his tower, bracing myself for what I’ve been planning on telling him for weeks, what I’ve tried to hint at in every word written to him – and I found him asleep, head pillowed in his arms on his desk. He looked peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb him at first, but I thought how awful his neck might feel in the morning and that he’d likely rather it was me that woke him than a recruit on patrols.

I tiptoed over and gently shook his arm, and he awoke with a start and grabbed my wrist. He was breathing heavily, staring at me with wide eyes. After a moment, he released me, turning red.

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor, I didn’t - “

“It’s alright,” I said softly. “You’re a light sleeper.”

He gave a quiet chuckle, rubbing his face. “I suppose. I’m glad to see you.”

I gazed at him, noting the tiredness in his eyes. “As am I you. I came to speak with you, but I think you’d be better off getting some sleep.”

“No, no, I can – I can stay up,” he was struggling to stifle a yawn, and I smiled.

“I’ll come first thing tomorrow morning, as long as you get some sleep?”

He agreed, and so I left him to get some sleep myself. Which was pointless, in the end, because my mind was racing.

It has been months since the Conclave. In those months, I have changed drastically, both physically and emotionally.

My body has changed, less soft than it was before, hardened by frequent battles and long hours. My scars have multiplied, and there is barely a spot on my body that has not been bruised or bashed in some way. I am a warrior now, and my physicality reflects that. But my body is not the only thing that has strengthened.

Reagan has emerged in my dreams, serving reminders of his teachings – but now, with time and distance, I feel differently. Maybe once, being nothing was right – it kept me safe in the dark days in the Circle. But it certainly didn’t keep me sane. How long have I denied myself the simple pleasure of friendship, of smiling and laughing freely, of enjoying another’s company? I could weep thinking of the years I _wasted_ , resigned to tranquillity because I was scared.

I once revered him, for all that he taught me, for all that he gave to me. But now, I feel nothing but bitterness.

He was wrong, I decided. Showing people who I really am has gained me more than I could ever have lost, and I will never hide away again.

And it was with these thoughts that I strode over to Cullen this morning, smiling and happy, as he stared out onto the battlements.

He smiled back when he noticed me, and I felt renewed with purpose.

“Cullen, I have something that I want to say to you. Something that I’ve been wanting to say for a while.”

“Oh?” He blushed and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“I care for you. I care for you, very deeply, and I,” under his gaze, I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I took a deep breath. “You left the templars, but do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more?”

“I could, I do! Think of you, I mean, and what I might say in this situation…”

“Then what’s stopping you?” I asked gently. I leaned against the battlements.

“You’re the Inquisitor, we’re at war, and I – didn’t think it was possible – “ he trailed off, taking a step towards me. We were standing very close.

“Well, I’m still here. And you know how I feel. You should’ve known for a while,” I smile. He smirks back.

“I should have, shouldn’t I? It seems too much to ask, but I want to.”

He closes the gap between us, placing his hands on my waist. His lips are inches away from mine, and I shut my eyes, and then –

Some recruit calls out for him, and I would have laugh were it not so fucking embarrassing. Cullen was furious, practically growling at the man. Disappointment caved in, and I began to mutter some excuse he could use to leave, but then he held my face in his hands and kissed me.

When I kissed him at Haven, it was hurried and rough and messy. This kiss started out the same, but after a moment it changed as if we had remembered that we were not back there, and this time I didn’t have to run away. This time, we took our time, and I basked in the warmth of his body pressed to mine, even with all his armour. Our lips moved against each other, languid and soft. His gloved hands smoothed through my hair. It was muddled and perfect and when he pulled away, I exhaled a long breath of relief.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “that was, um, really nice.”

Adorable.

“That was what I wanted,” I replied.

“Oh. Good.” And then he kissed me again. We were in plain sight of the grounds, and I’m sure everyone and their mother saw us, and I just don’t care.

I've been a fool, and I am so stupidly happy.


End file.
